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LIBKAKX 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST. 


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THE 


LIFE  AND   TIMES 

OF 

RICHARD  THE    FIRST, 

Contr#&r#£fon, 


KING  OF  ENGLAND. 


BY  WILLIAM  E.  AYTOUN. 


Ma  tu  de'  pensier  nostri  ultimo  segno 

Espugnar  di  Sinn  le  nobil  mura, 

E  sottrare  i  Christian!  al  girco  indegno, 

Di  servitn  cosi  spiacente,  e  dura, 

Fondando  in  Falestina  «n  novo  Regno, 

Ou'  habbia  la  pieta  sede  sicura: 

Ne  »ia  chi  neghi  al  Peregrin  devoto 

D'  adorar  la  gran  tomba,  e  sciorre  il  voto. 

Tissa — Giermalemmt  Liberals. 


LONDON: 
PRINTED    FOR    THOMAS    TEGG, 

73,  CHEAPSIDE. 


LONDON  !       - 

BRADBURY  AND  EVANS,   PRINTERS, 
WHITKFRFARS. 


PREFACE. 


THE  only  records  of  our  earlier  English  history 
are  the  Histories  and  Chronicles  of  the  Monks,  the 
solitary  class  of  men  who  then  cultivated  litera- 
ture and  science,  or  had  sufficient  leisure  or  learning 
to  depict  the  stirring  events  which  perpetually  passed 
around  them.  These  histories  are  all  written  in 
Latin;  for  the  English  language,  as  now  spoken, 
did  then  not  exist — no  amalgamation  of  the  Nor- 
man and  Saxon  tongues  had  been  effected — the 
first  was  the  language  of  the  higher,  and  the  latter, 
of  the  lower  classes.  Such  records  are  very  valu- 
able, since,  as  they  could  not  be  intended  for  publi- 
cation, but  were  written  for  the  exclusive  use  of 
the  Monasteries  or  Abbeys  to  which  the  authors 
belonged,  we  find  them  generally  accurate  and  faith- 
ful, as  will  be  seen  in  almost  every  instance  when 
collated  together.  From  these  sources,  therefore,  our 


VI  PREFACE. 

later  historians  have  been  forced  to  draw  the 
materials  for  their  works,  and  have  entered  more 
or  less  minutely  into  the  history,  policy,  and 
events,  of  each  successive  reign. 

Notwithstanding  the  great  amount  of  talent, 
learning,  and  industry,  which  has  been  brought  to 
the  task,  it  is  plain,  that  the  authors  of  the  long  and 
continuous  Histories  of  England  from  its  nominal 
commencement  must,  in  order  to  keep  their  works 
within  a  reasonable  compass,  have  omitted  much 
valuable  information,  illustrative  of  the  feelings  and 
manners  of  the  times,  and  also  avoided  such  minor 
occurrences  as  did  not  produce  a  marked  effect  upon 
the  state  and  policy  of  the  country.  For  the  same 
reason,  they  have  been  forced  to  notice,  very  slightly, 
the  politics  of  other  countries,  by  which  our  own  were 
often  influenced  and  guided.  Thus,  the  popular 
histories  of  England,  in  referring  to  the  remoter 
periods,  do  little  more  than  exhibit  a  faint  out- 
line, leaving  a  wider  field  to  speculation  than  to 
thought. 

This  is  peculiarly  the  case  with  regard  to  the 
reign  of  Coeur-de-Lion.  Not  one  of  our  English 
monarchs  has  achieved  a  wider  fame  than  Richard, 
and  yet  his  personal  history  is,  perhaps,  of  all 
others,  least  studied  or  generally  understood.  All 
men  know  that  he  rebelled  against  his  father,  but 


PREFACE.  Vll 

comparatively  few  are  aware  of  the  causes  which 
led  to  that  rebellion.  All  know  that  he  conducted 
a  crusade  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  there  encountered 
Saladin,  but  few,  save  laborious  students,  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  real  extent  of  his  conquests, 
or  the  causes  which  drove  him  back,  almost  a 
fugitive,  to  Europe.  As  for  his  subsequent  imprison- 
ment, the  story  of  Blondel  de  Nesle,  unsupported 
by  any  competent  testimony,  yet  daily  quoted  as 
an  historical  fact,  is  a  strong  proof  of  the  looseness 
of  our  general  information.  Yet  hardly  any  period, 
of  the  romantic  ages  at  least,  is  more  interesting, 
or  better  entitled  to  a  close  examinination  at  our 
hands. 

I  have  therefore  attempted  in  this  volume  to  give 
as  clear  and  distinct,  and,  at  the  same  time,  as  par- 
ticular a  narrative,  of  the  principal  events  which 
occurred  at  home  and  abroad  during  the  reign  of  the 
Lion-hearted  monarch,  as  I  could  obtain  from  the 
old  records  to  which  my  attention  was  directed ; 
and  at  the  same  time  I  have  endeavoured  to  keep 
Richard  personally  in  view  throughout,  except  where 
it  appeared  necessary  to  go  somewhat  back,  in  order 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  origin  of  events  which  were 
to  be  developed  in  the  course  of  the  narrative. 
Some  apology  might  otherwise  be  due  for  the  sketch 
of  the  Crusades,  and  progress  of  the  Latin  kingdom 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

in  Palestine,  contained  in  the  fifth  and  sixth  chap- 
ters of  this  volume ;  but  so  much  of  the  interest  of 
this  reign  is  derived  from  the  Holy  Wars,  and  so  ex- 
traordinary is  the  history  of  the  origin  and  establish- 
ment of  a  Christian  dynasty  in  Syria,  that  I  felt 
myself  justified  in  so  far  departing  from  the  main 
object  of  the  work. 

The  authorities  which  I  have  principally  consulted 
are  as  follows:  —  Rogeri  de  Hoveden  Annalium 
Pars  prior,  et  posterior — Matthsei  Paris,  Monachi 
Albanensis,  Angli,  Historia  Major — Gulielmi  Neubri- 
gensis  Historia,  sive  Chronica  Rerum  Angli  carum — 
Benedictus,  Abbas  Petroburgensis,  de  Vita  et  Gestis 
Henrici  II.  et  Ricardi  I. — Chronica  Gualteri  Hem- 
ingford,  Canonici  de  Gisseburne  Ge  offry  Vine- 
sauf's  Itinerarium  Regis  Anglorum  Ricardi,  et 
aliorum,  in  Terram  Hierosolymarum,  &c.  I  have 
also  received  much  information  from  the  works  of 
the  Arabian  writers  Bohadin  and  Abulfeda;  very 
interesting  in  so  far  as  regards  the  movements,  con- 
duct, and  feelings,  of  the  Saracens,  and  more  par- 
ticularly of  Saladin,  the  great  Asiatic  opponent  of 
Richard.  In  addition  to  those  I  have  frequently 
had  occasion  to  refer  to  the  French  historians  of  the 
Crusades,  viz.: — Foulchier  de  Chartres,  Odon  de 
Deuil,  Guillaume  de  Tyr,  Bernard  le  Tresorier, 
and  Jacques  de  Vitry.  Most  of  those  last  are 


PREFACE.  IX 

to  be  found  in  M.  Guizot's  splendid  work,  "  Col- 
lection des  Memoires  sur  1'Histoire  de  France," 
for  which  the  world  of  letters  has  much  reason  to 
be  grateful.  It  is  still  to  be  regretted  that  no 
attempt  has  been  made  to  reprint  the  works  of  our 
earlier  historians  in  a  similar  form.  The  task  might 
be  too  great  for  one  individual,  but  could  be  easily 
forwarded  by  the  co-operation  of  the  learned  societies 
or  clubs,  who  have  already  done  something  to  res- 
cue our  ancient  literature  from  oblivion.  Such  edi- 
tions as  that  of  the  Chronicon  de  Lanercost,  presented 
to  the  Maitland  Club  by  the  late  respected  Mr. 
Campbell  of  Blythswood,  would,  if  placed  within 
reach  of  the  public,  be  found  of  invaluable  service  to 
the  scholar  and  the  student. 

In  conclusion,  it  may  be  proper  to  state,  that  the 
object  of  the  following  pages  is  merely  to  reproduce 
the  material,  which  has  not  been  collected  without 
some  pains  and  labour,  in  a  popular  form.  If,  in 
the  opinion  of  those  best  qualified  to  judge,  he 
shall  be  thought  to  have  effected  this,  and  to  have 
made  more  perspicuous  a  somewhat  obscure  portion 
of  the  pages  of  English  history,  the  utmost  wish  of 
the  author  will  be  gratified. 

Edinburgh,  March  1,  1840. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 

The  Norman  Conquest — State  of  England  during  the  Reign  of 
Stephen — Accession  of  Henry  II. — His  Family  Dissensions 
with  France — Thomas  a  Becket,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury— His  Character— Privileges  of  the  Clergy — Collision 
between  them  and  the  King — Constitutions  of  Clarendon — 
Disgrace  of  Becket — Expedition  against  Wales — Richard 
affianced  to  Adelais,  Daughter  of  Louis  of  France — Corona- 
tion of  the  young  Prince  Henry — Return  of  Becket  to 
England — His  Murder — Conquest  of  Ireland — Henry  is 
reconciled  to  the  Pope — Rebellion  of  his  Sons  and  his 
Queen  Eleanor — League  of  the  Princes  with  the  King  of 
France — Military  Operations  and  Conference  at  Gisors — 
Inroad  of  the  Scots  and  Rebellion  of  the  English  Nobles — 
Return  of  Henry  to  England — His  Penance — Capture  of 
the  King  of  Scots — Henry  is  reconciled  to  his  Sons — Rich- 
ard in  Guienne — State  of  the  Holy  Land  and  Embassy 
from  Queen  Sybilla — Insolent  Behaviour  of  Heraclius, 
Patriarch  of  Jerusalem  .  .  .  .1 

CHAPTER    II. 

Disputes  among  the  Princes — Refusal  of  Richard  to  do  Ho- 
mage to  his  Brother — War  in  Guienne — Prince  Henry 
takes  the  Cross — His  Death — Conduct  and  Death  of  Geoffry 
— Cause  of  the  Disputes  between  Richard  and  his  Father — 
His  Alliance  with  Philip  of  France — The  Third  Crusade 
preached  by  William  Archbishop  of  Tyre — Preparations  for 
the  Crusade — Saladin's  Tithe — .Intrigues  of  Philip  and 
Richard — Incursions  on  Touraine — Conference  of  Bon- 
Moulins — Final  Rupture  between  Henry  and  Richard — 
Interference  of  the  Legate-cardinal  of  Anagni — Spirited 
Behaviour  of  Philip — War  in  the  Territory  of  Maine — 
Peace  concluded  at  Azay — Narrative  of  the  Conference 
there — Death  of  Henry  II. — His  Obsequies,  Character,  and 
Family  .  .  .  .  .  .28 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    III. 

PAGE 

Richard's  Policy  on  his  Accession  to  the  Throne — Amicable 
Adjustment  with  Philip — Eleanor  appointed  Regent — 
Order  of  Richard's  Coronation — Disturbance  caused  by 
the  Intrusion  of  the  Jews — Outrages  against  that  People 
in  different  Parts  of  England,  and  horrible  Massacre  at 
York — Richard's  Preparations  for  the  Crusade — Anecdote 
of  the  Bishop  of  Durham — Disposal  of  the  Crown-Lands 
and  public  Offices — Homage  of  the  King  of  Scotland 
remitted — Embassy  from  Philip — William  Longchamp, 
Bishop  of  Ely.  appointed  Chancellor  and  Justiciary — 
Richard  crosses  over  to  France — Final  Arrangements 
before  his  Departure — Great  Meeting  at  Vezelai — Richard 
arrives  at  Marseilles — His  personal  Appearance,  Temper, 
and  Reputation  .  .  .  .  .52 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Arrival  of  Richard  at  Messina — His  Reception  by  King  Tan- 
cred — Disturbances  with  the  Natives — Their  Attack  upon 
the  English — Richard  takes  Messina  by  Assault — Dispute 
with  Philip — Richard  makes  a  Treaty  with  Tancred — 
Builds  the  Castle  of  Mategriffon — Encounter  of  Richard 
and  William  de  Barres — The  Abbot  Joachim  of  Haute- 
pierre — Domestic  History — Queen  Eleanor  arrives  in  Sicily 
with  the  Princess  Berengaria  of  Navarre — Tancred  reveals 
to  Richard  the  Treachery  of  Philip — Marriage  of  Richard 
and  Adelais  finally  broken  off — Richard  leaves  Messina — 
Seizure  of  some  of  his  Ships  at  Cyprus,  and  Attempt  of 
the  Emperor  Isaac  to  seize  on  his  Sister  and  Berengaria — 
Richard  takes  Limesol,  and  defeats  the  whole  Army  of  the 
Cypriots  with  a  few  of  his  Knights — Treachery  of  Isaac — 
Richard  takes  Famagosta  and  Nicosia — Arrival  of  Guy  of 
Lusignan,  whose  Party  is  adopted  by  the  King — Marriage 
of  Richard  and  Berengaria — Richard  leaves  Cyprus — 
Encounters  and  sinks  a  large  Turkish  Trireme — Arrives 
at  Acre  ..... 

CHAPTER  V. 

State  of  Palestine  after  the  first  Crusade — Hostility  of  the 
Turks — Capture  of  Edessa  by  Noureddin — The  Second 
Crusade  preached  by  Saint  Bernard — Expedition  of  Louis 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

PAGE 

VII.  and  the  Emperor  Conrad  III. — Misfortunes  of  the 
Germans,  and  Treachery  of  the  Greek  Emperor,  Manuel 
—  Great  Defeat  of  the  Germans  in  Cappadocia — Arrival  of 
the  French  in  Asia — Passage  of  the  Mseander — Battle  of 
Laodicea — Arrival  of  the  Crusaders  in  Palestine — Siege  of 
Damascus — Dissentions  among  the  Syrian  Nobles — Return 
of  the  Crusaders — Military  Orders  of  Knighthood — The 
Hospitallers — The  Templars — Antioch  attacked  by  Noured- 
din — Death  of  Baldwin  III. — Amaury's  Egyptian  Expe- 
dition—  Shiracouch  and  Saladin  despatched  to  Egypt — 
Defeat  of  Amaury — Egypt  occupied  by  Saladin  for  the 
Caliph  of  Bagdat: — Death  of  Noureddin  ;  of  Amaury — • 
Baldwin  IV.  and  V. — Guy  de  Lusignan  elected  King  of 
Jerusalem — Quarrel  with  Count  Raymond,  of  Tripoli— 
Great  Preparations  by  Saladin  for  the  Invasion  of  the 
Holy  Land  .....  106 

CHAPTER    VI. 

Advance  of  Saladin — Combat  of  the  Turks  and  Templars — 
Death  of  Gamier  of  Naplouse,  Grand  Master  of  the  Hos- 
pitallers— Reconciliation  of  Lusignan  and  Raymond  of  Tri- 
poli— Battle  of  Tiberias  and  Defeat  of  the  Christians — 
Conduct  of  Saladin  after  the  Battle — His  further  Con- 
quests— Siege  and  Surrender  of  Jerusalem  —  Generosity 
of  the  Sultan — History  of  Conrad,  Marquis  of  Mont- 
serrat — His  arrival  at  Tyre — Defence  of  that  City — Valour 
of  a  Spanish  Cavalier — Destruction  of  the  Turkish  Fleet — 
Abandonment  of  the  Siege — New  Crusade  preached  in 
Europe — Expedition  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  BarbaVossa 
— His  death — Saladin  repulsed  at  Tripoli — Lusignan  set  at 
liberty — Refusal  of  the  Marquis  Conrad  to  admit  him  \ntgf 
Tyre — Commencement  of  the  Siege  of  Acre — Arrival  of 
new  Crusaders — Great  Buttle  fought  before  the  Town — 
Gallantry  of  the  Knights  Templars — The  Christians  besieged 
in  their  Camp — Arrival  of  the  Count  of  Champagne — 
Isabella  divorces  Humphrey  of  Thoron  and  marries  the 
Marquis  of  Montserrat,  who  claims  the  Crown  of  Jeru- 
salem—  Arrival  of  the  German  Crusaders,  under  Fre- 
derick, Duke  of  Suabia — New  Attack  upon  Acre,  and 
Gallantry  of  Duke  Leopold  'of  Austria — Death  of  the 
Duke  of  Suabia,  and  Return  of  the  Germans — Privations 
of  the  Christian  Army  during  the  Siege  .  .  139 


XIV  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

PAGE 

Joy  of  £he  Crusaders  at  Richard's  Arrival  at  Acre  ;  and  Jea- 
lousy of  Philip  and  the  Marquis  Conrad — State  of  the  Siege 
— Richard's  Illness — Unsuccessful  Attack  upon  the  City 
by  Philip — Death  of  Alberic  Clement,  Marshal  of  France 
— Richard  continues  the  Siege;  effects  a  Breach,  but  is  re- 
pulsed— Offer  by  the  Garrison  to  capitulate  refused — Gene- 
ral Assault  upon  the  City,  and  final  Surrender — Further 
Disagreement  between  Richard  and  Philip — Dispute  for 
the  Crown  of  Jerusalem  finally  settled — Departure  of  Philip 
from  the  Holy  Land — Saladin  puts  to  death  the  Christian 
Captives ;  and  Richard  in  return  causes  the  Garrison  of 
Acre  to  be  beheaded — Preparations  for  the  Campaign — 
March  to  Caiphas — Attack  of  the  Turks  repelled — Order 
of  the  March — Arrival  at  Cesarea — Hardships  of  the  Cru- 
saders— Skirmish  near  Cesarea — The  Army  are  harassed 
by  the  Saracens  during  their  advance  inland — Want  of 
Provisions — Arrival  at  the  River  of  Assur,  and  prepara- 
tions for  a  general  Engagement  .  .  .  1 70 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Battle  of  Assur,  and  Defeat  of  the  Saracens — Death  of 
James  D'Avesnes — Arrival  of  the  Crusaders  at  Joppa — 
Saladin  destroys  the  Fortifications  of  Ascalon  —  Adventure 
of  Richard — Combat  between  the  Templars  and  Saracens 
— Negotiations  of  Conrad  and  Richard  with  Saladin — 
Quarrels  amongst  the  Crusaders — Their  advance  to  Ascalon 
— Defection  of  the  Dukes  of  Austria  and  Burgundy — The 
French  retire  to  Acre — Disputes  of  the  Pisans  and  Genoese 
— Alarming  intelligence  from  England  and  proposed  Return 
of  Richard — Conrad  of  Montserrat  and  Tyre  elected  King 
of  Jerusalem — Account  of  the  Haussassiz — Conrad  mur- 
dered by  the  Emissaries  of  the  Old  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tain— Marriage  of  Count  Henry  of  Champagne  with  Isa- 
bella, whereby  he  acquires  the  Crown  of  Jerusalem  .  199 


CONTENTS.  XV 


CHAPTER    IX. 

PAGE 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  returns  to  the  Army — Capture  of 
Darutn — Richard  makes  over  the  Island  of  Cyprus  to  Guy 
of  Lusignan — Advance  to  Bethanopolis — Skirmishes  with 
the  Saracens,  and  Valour  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester  and 
the  Bishop  of  Salisbury — Siege  of  Jerusalem  proposed — 
Capture  of  a  valuable  Caravan  by  Richard — Retreat  from 
Bethanopolis — Final  Defection  of  the  French  and  Disper- 
sion of  the  Crusaders — Saladin  takes  Joppa,  whereupon 
Richard  sails  to  the  Relief  of  the  Garrison — The  English 
land  and  recover  the  Town — Desperate  Engagement  with 
the  Saracens — Personal  Daring  of  Richard  and  final  Victory 
— Noble  Conduct  of  Malek-el-Adel — Proposals  of  Peace 
accepted — The  Christians  visit  Jerusalem — Interview  be- 
tween the  Sultan  and  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury — Richard 
accepts  an  Escort  from  the  Templars  and  departs  for  Europe 
— Lands  near  Trieste — His  Adventures  and  Capture  at 
Vienna  by  the  Duke  of  Austria  .  .  .  232 


CHAPTER    X. 

Government  of  England  during  the  third  Crusade — Disputes 
between  the  Chancellor  and  the  Bishop  of  Durham — Op- 
pressive Conduct,  of  the  former,  and  Intrigues  of  Prince 
John — Assault  upon  the  Archbishop  of  York — The  Chan- 
cellor is  deposed — Interference  of  the  Pope  in  his  behalf — 
Return  of  Philip  from  the  Crusade — He  prepares  to  invade 
Normandy — The  Duke  of  Austria  transfers  the  Custody  of 
Richard  to  the  Emperor  Henry — General  excitement 
throughout  Europe  at  the  news  of  his  Imprisonment — 
Measures  taken  by  the  English  Government — Accusation 
and  Appearance  of  Richard  before  the  Germanic  Diet — 
His  Ransom  fixed — John  enters  into  a  Treaty  with  Philip, 
who  invades  Normandy — The  Ransom  is  raised  in  England 
— Richard  arrives  at  Sandwich — Reduces  Nottingham  Cas- 
tle— Is  recrowned  at  Winchester — Receives  a  Visit  from 
William  of  Scotland — Crosses  to  Normandy,  and  pardons 
his  Brother  John  .  .  .  261 


XVI  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

PAGE 

Military  Operations  in  Normandy — Defeat  of  the  French — 
Tournaments  first  established  in  England — Disputes  of  the 
Archbishops  of  Canterbury  and  York — Richard's  Conduct 
towards  his  Brother  and  Nephews — Proposed  Marriage 
between  Otho  of  Saxony  and  the  Daughter  of  William  the 
Lion — Policy  of  the  Church  of  Rome — Negotiations  with 
the  Emperor — War  with  France  continued — Letter  from 
the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain — Its  Authenticity  discussed 
— Scandalous  Behaviour  of  Philip  to  the  Danish  Princess 
— Riot  in  London — History  and  Death  of  William  Fitz- 
Osbert — Character  and  Conduct  of  Hubert  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury — and  of  Hugh  Bishop  of  Lincoln — Dispute 
with  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen,  and  Fortification  of  Andeli 
— Marriage  of  Richard's  Sister  Joanna,  and  Succession  of 
William  Longespee  to  the  Earldom  of  Salisbury  .  .291 

CHAPTER    XII. 

State  of  Bretagne — Prince  Arthur — The  Earl  of  Flanders 
enters  into  an  alliance  with  Richard — Military  Operations 
in  France — The  Bishop  of  Beauvais  taken  Prisoner — His 
Letter  to  the  Pope,  and  the  Reply — Laws  for  the  Encour- 
agement of  Manufactures,  &c.  in  England — Its  State  at  the 
Time — Death  of  Saladin — New  Crusade  from  Germany — 
Death  of  Henry  of  Champagne — Of  the  Emperor  Henry 
— and  of  Pope  Celestine — Otho  elected  Emperor — New 
War  with  France — The  French  routed  at  Gamages  and 
Courcelles — Peace  concluded  between  the  two  Countries — 
Philip  accuses  John  of  Treachery,  which  is  disproved — 
Richard  in  Aquitaine — Demands  a  Treasure  found  by  the 
Viscount  of  Limoges — Besieges  the  Castle  of  Chaluz — Is 
•wounded  by  an  Arrow  from  the  Walta — His  Death  and 
Character  ;  .  .  .  .  .322 

NOTES  (Appendix)         .         .         .         .         .         .         .351 


THE 

LIFE  AND  TIMES 

OF 

RICHARD    THE    FIRST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Norman  Conquest — State  of  England  during  the  Reign  of  Ste- 
phen— Accession  of  Henry  II. — His  Family  Dissensions  with 
France — Thomas  a  Becket,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury — His 
Character — Privileges  of  the  Clergy — Collision  between  them 
and  the  King — Constitutions  of  Clarendon — Disgrace  of  Becket — 
Expedition  against  Wales — Richard  affianced  to  Adelais,  Daughter 
of  Louis  of  France — Coronation  of  the  young  Prince  Henry — 
Return  of  Becket  to  England — His  Murder — Conquest  of  Ire- 
land— Henry  is  reconciled  to  the  Pope — Rebellion  of  his  Sons 
and  his  Queen  Eleanor — League  of  the  Princes  with  the  King 
of  France — Military  Operations  and  Conference  at  Gisors — In- 
road of  the  Scots  and  Rebellion  of  the  English  Nobles — Return  of 
Henry  to  England — His  Penance — Capture  of  the  King  of  Scots 
— Henry  is  reconciled  to  his  Sons — Richard  in  Guienne — State 
of  the  Holy  Land  and  Embassy  from  Queen  Sybilla — Insolent 
Behaviour  of  Heraclius,  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem. 

IT  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  Norman 
conquest,  by  means  of  which  the  system  of  chivalry 
was  introduced  into  England,  was  at  first  produc- 
tive of  salutary  or  of  noxious  effects.  '  Although  that 
system,  hy  the  powerful  aid  of  fiction,  appears  to  us 
now,  like  a  dazzling  day-dream,  surrounded  with 
adventitious  glory,  there  was  much  in  its  nature 


2  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

opposed  to  the  progress  of  social  improvement,  and  to 
that  state  of  fraternization  which  constitutes  the 
safeguard  and  prosperity  of  kingdoms.  Still  it  was 
of  use  as  a  transition  from  greater  barbarism,  such 
as  prevailed  in  England  during  the  rule  of  the 
Saxons  ;  and  since,  from  its  own  nature,  it  could  not 
be  of  long  continuance,  but  must  be  and  was  modi- 
fied by  the  expansion  of  the  virtues  of  which  it  con- 
tained the  germ,  whereas  the  other  state  held  out  no 
promise  of  further  improvement,  the  Norman  con- 
quest may  be  considered  in  nearly  the  same  light  as 
the  Roman  invasion,  which  first  reclaimed  the 
English  savage  from  the  hands  of  untutored  nature. 
It  is  not  our  purpose  to  trace  the  progress  of  the 
new  dynasty  to  a  remoter  period  than  the  accession 
of  Henry  II.  When  that  monarch  ascended  the 
throne,  he  found  his  insular  possessions  in  a  state  of 
the  utmost  desolation  and  distress.  The  civil  war, 
which  throughout  the  whole  of  Stephen's  reign  raged 
with  unceasing  violence,  arose  from  the  competition 
for  the  crown,  between  that  monarch  and  Matilda 
the  mother  of  Henry,  and  produced  the  most  baleful 
effects  upon  the  country  at  large.  Stephen's  autho- 
rity was  never  sufficiently  grounded  to  restrain  his 
powerful  vassals  from  committing  excesses,  which 
in  that  rude  and  lawless  age  were  both  frequent 
and  cruel.  Many  of  the  barons,  without  espousing 
the  party  of  either  candidate,  retired  to  their  castles, 
and,  collecting  around  them  gangs  of  desperate  ruf- 
fians, commenced  a  system  of  plunder  and  pillage  of 
their  neighbours'  property.  Where  castles  were  want- 
ing, churches  were  seized  and  fortified  ;  the  house  of 
God  became  in  the  most  literal  sense  a  den  of  thieves : 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  3 

and,  in  short,  so  miserably  weak  was  the  executive 
power,  that  the  life  and  property  of  none  could  be 
considered  safe.  Even  the  thunders  of  the  church, 
usually  esteemed  so  terrible,  were  disregarded  by 
these  marauders.  Priests  suffered  equally  with  lay- 
men, and  the  whole  country  was  thrown  into  a  state 
of  anarchy  and  confusion.  The  reconciliation  of  Ste- 
phen and  Matilda,  and  the  appointment  of  Henry  a9 
successor  to  the  crown,  tended  but  little  to  restore 
England  to  tranquillity  ;  nor  was  it  until  the  death 
of  Stephen  and  the  accession  of  Henry,  that  the 
rebellious  barons  were  compelled  to  acknowledge  the 
paramount  authority  of  the  king. 

In  the  year  1154,  Henry  II.,  being  then  in  his 
twenty-first  year,  ascended  the  throne  of  England* 
No  monarch,  perhaps,  ever  commenced  his  reign 
under  more  promising  auspices ;  few  have  met  with 
a  larger  share  of  vexation,  hostility,  and  disappoint- 
ment. Even  before  he  succeeded  to  his  English 
possessions,  he  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  princes 
in  Christendom.  From  his  father  he  inherited  Anjou 
and  Touraine,  from  his  mother,  Maine  and  Nor- 
mandy ;  and  with  his  wife,  Eleanor  of  Poitou,  the 
divorced  spouse  of  Louis  of  France,  he  received  the 
seven  important  provinces  of  Poitou,  Saintonge,  Au- 
vergue,  Perigord,  Angoumois,  Limousin  andGuienne. 
As  vassal  of  the  French  king  he  was  at  least  as 
powerful  as  his  feudal  lord,  and  far  more  so  when  to 
his  other  possessions  he  added  the  sovereignty  of 
England.  Rich,  active,  and  enterprising,  he  was 
hailed  on  his  arrival,  by  his  new  subjects,  with  every 
demonstration  of  joy;  and  the  commencement  of  his 
career  seemed  to  promise  a  long  and  uninterrupted 
B  2 


4  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

course  of  prosperity  to  himself  and  to  the  realm. 
His  first  care  was  to  suppress  the  power  of  those 
nobles  who,  during  the  previous  reign,  had  grown  up 
from  vassals  into  lawless  and  independent  chiefs,  and 
to  deprive  them  of  those  castles  which  were  now 
transformed  into  the  strongholds  of  rohbery  and 
rapine.  In  this  he  succeeded,  though  not  without 
some  opposition ;  but  the  barons  being  constantly 
engaged  in  petty  warfare  with  each  other,  could  not 
make  any  united  or  effectual  resistance,  and  conse- 
quently were  gradually  overcome  and  deprived  of 
their  immoderate  power.  Having  so  far  succeeded 
in  reinstating  the  tranquillity  of  the  country,  Henry 
turned  his  attention  towards  the  northern  frontier, 
and  without  much  difficulty  received  from  Malcolm, 
the  minor  king  of  Scotland,  the  three  coimties  of 
Northumberland,  Cumberland,  and  Westmoreland, 
in  exchange  for  the  earldom  of  Huntingdon. 

As  our  sketch  of  the  events  occurring  during 
Henry's  reign  must  necessarily.be  short,  owing  to  the 
abundance  of  materials  presented  to  us  in  that  after- 
stage  of  English  history,  which  it  is  our  present  pur- 
pose to  elucidate,  we  cannot  give  a  detailed  account 
of  the  many  wars  and  political  negociations  in  which 
that  prince  was  concerned,  but  shall  only  allude  to 
the  most  remarkable  as  bearing  upon  the  history  of 
his  son.  Henry,  by  his  wife  Eleanor,  had  eight  chil- 
dren— William,  who  died  in  infancy,  Henry,  Rich- 
ard, Geoffry,  John,  and  three  daughters,  besides 
other  offspring,  the  fruit  of  illegitimate  amours. 
With  the  view  to  strengthen  his  alliance  \vith  the 
French  king,  and  furthermore  to  prevent  certain  dis- 
putes touching  his  patrimonial  territories,  which  were 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  5 

likely  to  arise  from  a  disputed  clause  in  his  father's 
will,  Henry  had  no  sooner  established  himself  firmly 
in  his  English  dominions,  than  he  entered  into  a 

O  ' 

treaty  by  which  Henry,  his  eldest  surviving  son, 
was  affianced  to  Margaret  the  infant  daughter  of 
Louis.  This  important  negociation  was  conducted 
by  the  celebrated  Thomas  a  Becket,  then  chancellor 
of  the  kingdom  and  archdeacon  of  Canterbury, 
whose  personal  history  forms  a  prominent  feature  of 
the  time.  The  prospect,  however,  of  this  alliance 
was  naturally  too  distant  to  form  a  firm  or  an  en- 
during tie  ;  and  a  fresh  cause  of  dissension  presently 
arose  between  the  kings  of  France  and  England,  in 
the  claim  advanced  to  the  duchy  of  Toulouse  by 
Raymond,  count  of  St.  Gilles.  The  consequence  of 
this  new  dispute  was  a  war  which  produced  no 
material  results,  and  was  afterwards  ended  by  the 
papal  intervention;  but  cordial  amity  never  after- 
wards prevailed  between  the  monarchs.  Henry 
soon  found  ample  occupation  at  home,  and  Louis, 
though  indisposed  to  recur  to  actual  hostilities,  lost 
no  opportunity  of  strengthening  by  his  secret  inter- 
est every  cabal  most  obnoxious  to  his  English  rival. 
In  1161,  died  Theobald,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
a  good  and  a  wise  prelate,  to  whose  advice  and  assist- 
ance Henry  owed  much  of  his  early  prosperity. 
The  situation  thus  left  vacant  was  one  of  the  high- 
est importance,  as  the  revenues  and  patronage  of  the 
see,  besides  its  spiritual  dignity,  rendered  its  occu- 
pant the  most  important  personage  in  England  after 
the  king.  Henry,  who  during  the  vacancy  drew  the 
revenues,  allowed  a  period  of  thirteen  months  to 
elapse  without  nominating  a  successor  ;  at.  last,  as 


6  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

was  anticipated  by  the  country  at  large,  his  choice 
fell  upon  the  chancellor  Becket,  who  was  immedi- 
ately installed  into  office.  It  has  been  said  by  some 
writers  that  Becket  was  most  unwilling  to  accept 
the  distinction  thus  thrust  upon  him, — as  he  fore- 
saw that  the  necessary  consequence  of  such  an  exalt- 
ation must  be  a  series  of  disputes  with  the  king 
and  might  draw  down  his  severest  enmity — no  light 
matter,  since  Henry  was  one  of  the  most  implacable 
of  mankind ; — and  that  he  would  have  much  pre- 
ferred to  remain  in  a  situation,  better  adapted  to  his 
natural  character  than  that  of  primate  of  the  church. 
These  assertions,  however,  have  been  chiefly  made 
by  the  notorious  advocates  of  Becket's  policy,  and 
defenders  of  his  personal  character.  Others,  whose 
evidence  is  at  least  as  credible,  have  asserted  the  con- 
trary ;  and  there  seems  every  reason  to  believe,  from 
his  behaviour  both  before  and  afterwards,  that  he 
not  only  expected  the  distinguished  office,  but  had 
maturely  considered  the  line  of  conduct  which  he 
should  thereafter  pursue.  It  is  probable  that  Henry, 
in  making  this  appointment,  expected  to  secure  a 
partisan  and  a  coadjutor  in  one  whom  he  had  always 
found  a  pliant  and  a  politic  servant ;  without  con- 
sidering that  the  same  motives  which  made  him 
tractable  and  useful  in  the  one  character,  might  render 
him  stubborn  and  dangerous  in  the  other.  Certain 
it  is,  that  no  sooner  was  Becket  appointed  archbishop, 
than  his  character  and  bearing  underwent  a  remark- 
able change.  As  chancellor  he  was  distinguished  for 
his  love  of  pomp  and  show,  the  magnificence  of  his 
establishment,  his  courtesy  to  the  nobles,  and  his 
veneration  for  the  king :  as  archbishop  he  affected 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  7 

to  despise  all  external  splendour ;  his  train  was  nar- 
rowed and  reduced ;  he  became  reserved  and  haughty, 
difficult  of  access,  cold,  sullen,  and  insolent.  As  if 
to  show  how  little  he  regarded  the  interests  of  his 
patron,  he  sent  back  the  seals  of  his  former  office  to 
the  king  without  explanation  or  apology,  and  that 
at  a  moment  when  his  services  as  chancellor  were 
imperatively  required.  Henry  was  hurt  and  disap- 
pointed ;  the  nobles  regarded  with  alarm  the  power 
thus  cast  into  the  hands  of  an  ambitious  and  unprin- 
cipled man,  and  lost  no  opportunity  of  fanning  the 
spark  of  rancour  ;  while  the  clergy  in  general  ex- 
ulted in  what  they  called  the  noble  spirit  of  their 
champion,  and  already  began  to  calculate  on  further 
possessions  to  be  wrung  from  the  laity,  and  greater 
privileges  to  be  conferred  on  the  servants  of  mother 
church.  But  other  eyes  than  theirs  were  directed 
towards  the  same  object.  Not  only  the  hereditary 
nobility,  but  the  commons  at  large,  had  remarked  with 
corresponding  jealousy  the  augmenting  power  andpro- 
gress  of  the  religious  institutions,  which  threatened,  if 
not  speedily  arrested,  to  attain  an  undue  preponder- 
ance in  the  state,  and  to  curtail  not  only  their  rights 
and  privileges,  but  the  power  and  authority  of  the 
king.  Henry  himself  was  perfectly  conscious  of  the 
absolute  necessity  which  existed  of  setting  some 
bounds  to  this  spirit  of  clerical  ascendancy,  and  an 
opportunity  to  commence  the  attack  was  soon 
afforded  him  by  the  conduct  of  the  bishops  them- 
selves. 

The  special  authority  and  jurisdiction  of  the  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  courts  in  England  were  at  that 
time  by  no  means  accurately  defined.  The  principle 


8 

established  by  the  Roman  emperors,  that  all  dis- 
putes among  the  clergy  should  be  settled  in  their  own 
courts,  was  readily  admitted ;  but  the  decision  of 
Justinian,  who  referred  all  cases,  in  which  only  one 
of  the  parties  was  a  clergyman,  to  the  same  tribunal, 
gave  rise  to  much  dissatisfaction  among  the  laity, 
who,  with  great  show  of  justice,  complained  that  in 
these  circumstances  undue  favour  was  shown  to  the 
other  estate.  But  the  greatest  grievance  of  all,  and 
that  which  was  most  loudly  reprobated,  was  the 
jurisdiction  claimed  by  the  clergy  in  strictly  criminal 
cases,  wherein  any  of  their  own  order  were  concerned. 
By  the  canon  law,  the  clergy  were  excluded  from 
inflicting  punishments  of  blood :  the  severest  sen- 
tences they  could  pronounce  were  mulct,  flagellation, 
and  imprisonment;  and  as  every  person  who  had 
received  the  tonsure,  whether  in  regular  orders  or 
not,  was  entitled  to  the  full  clerical  privileges,  it 
often  happened  that  the  worst  malefactors  in  their 
own  courts  received  a  trifling  sentence,  whereas  had 
they  been  tried  in  the  ordinary  courts  of  the  realm, 
they  would  have  been  subjected  to  a  far  severer 
penalty.  This  provision,  as  was  argued  with  much 
justice,  plainly  held  out  a  bonus  for  sacrilege  and 
crime,  nor  was  the  reform  of  any  law  in  England 
more  loudly  demanded  by  one  party,  or  more  stoutly 
resisted  by  the  other,  than  this.  At  last  the  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  powers  were  brought  to  issue  on 
the  following  case. 

In  the  days  of  Theobald,  the  predecessor  of  Becket, 
Philip  de  Brois,'  a  canon  of  Bedford,  had  been  tried 
before  his  bishop  for  manslaughter,  and  having  been 
found  guilty,  was  ordained  to  make  payment  of  a 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  9 

certain  sum  to  the  relations  of  the  deceased,  by  way 
of  recompense.  In  a  subsequent  quarrel  with  the 
high  justiciary,  Fitz  Peter,  this  De  Brois,  presuming 
too  much  upon  the  shelter  of  his  profession,  used 
such  offensive  language,  that  the  king  insisted  upon 
his  being  tried  for  the  offence  in  the  spiritual  court, 
and  the  bishops  having  passed  a  sentence  upon  him 
which  the  king  deemed  wholly  inadequate,  he  re- 
quired the  reverend  judges  to  make  oath  that  they 
had  duly  exercised  their  functions.  This  demand 
was  met  by  a  refusal  on  the  part  of  the  bishops, 
with  the  co-operation  of  Becket,  now  primate,  who 
warmly  espoused  the  cause  of  his  brethren  and  order; 
a  reference  by  the  king  to  the  ancient  customs  of 
the  realm  was  met  by  an  evasive  answer;  and  Henry, 
in  high  wrath,  broke  up  the  assembly  which  he  had 
convened,  and  appointed  another  to  be  held  at  Cla- 
rendon, where  his  will  should  be  publicly  declared. 

In  the  interval,  the  other  bishops,  wisely  consider- 
ing their  inability  to  cope  with  the  king,  and  perhaps 
being  convinced  of  the  unrighteous  nature  of  their 
cause,  agreed  among  themselves  to  conform  to  the 
royal  will,  and  so  wrought  upon  Becket,  that  he  at 
last  abandoned  his  resolution.  Accordingly,  along 
with  the  other  bishops,  he  swore  to  observe  and  con- 
form to  the  laws  and  customs  of  the  realm,  as  then 
first  reduced  to  writing,  and  promulgated  as  the 
celebrated  "  Constitutions  of  Clarendon."  By  these 
Constitutions,  the  separate  powers  of  the  civil  and 
ecclesiastical  courts  were  clearly  denned;  juries  were 
appointed  to  return  verdicts  in  certain  classes  of  dis- 
putes between  the  laity  and  clergy;  members  of  the 
latter  order  might  be  tried  before  the  civil  courts; 


10  /   THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OF 

no  tenant  of  the  crown  could  be  excommunicated 
without  the  concurrence  of  the  civil  judge ;  and  lastly, 
from  the  archbishop  an  appeal  might  be  made  to 
the  king,  whose  decision  in  the  archiepiscopal  court 
was  declared  to  be  final.  These  were  the  principal 
heads  of  those  remarkable  Constitutions,  which,  with- 
out depriving  the  clergy  of  their  due  influence,  set 
moderate  bounds  to  their  privileges,  placed  them  upon 
a  more  equal  footing  with  the  other  classes  of  the 
realm,  and  tended  to  prevent  the  undue  interference 
of  the  pope  with  matters  which  lay  entirely  without 
his  cognizance  as  head  of  the  Christian  church.  To 
these  Becket  assented,  though  with  sufficient  ill  will, 
but  no  sooner  had  he  retired  from  the  assembly, 
than  he  thought  proper  again  to  change  his  mind, 
and  to  write  a  recantation  of  his  oath  to  the  pope, 
Alexander  III.  In  consequence,  no  fewer  than  ten 
out  of  the  sixteen  articles  of  the  Constitutions  were 
condemned  by  the  pope,  as  contrary  to  the  canons  of 
the  church.  The  king,  already  ill-disposed  towards 
the  archbishop,  now  regarded  him  with  extreme  aver- 
sion. At  last  matters  went  so  far,  that  Becket  was 
summoned  to  appear  before  the  great  council  at  Nor- 
thampton, and  to  defend  himself  against  various 
charges  of  perversion  of  justice,  and  embezzlement  of 
the  royal  revenues.  Of  these  he  was  found  guilty,  and 
sentence  of  restitution  was  passed  upon  him.  Some 
of  the  lesser  demands  he  paid  or  gave  security  for,  but 
a  claim  of  restitution  to  the  amount  of  two  hundred 
and  thirty  thousand  marks,  being  the  alleged  amount 
of  the  revenues  of  vacant  bishoprics  and  abbeys 
which  he  had  drawn  while  chancellor,  was  so  exor- 
bitant as  to  be  utterly  beyond  his  means.  As  a  last 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  Jl 

resource  he  appealed  to  the  pope.  The  king,  on  the 
other  hand,  ordered  the  nobles  to  proceed  in  enforcing 
the  decree  ;  the  bishops,  who  highly  disapproved  of 
the  conduct  of  Becket,  would  have  concurred,  had  they 
not  been  withheld  by  the  threat  of  instant  excommu- 
nication which  the  archbishop  vehemently  held  out ; 
the  other  estates,  however,  were  unanimous,  and  the 
head  of  the  English  church  was  declared  guilty  of 
perjury  and  treason.  The  scene  which  followed  was 
one  of  the  strangest  kind.  Becket,  transported  with 
passion,  persisted  in  his  appeal,  denied  and  set  at 
nought  the  king's  authority,  abused  in  the  grossest 
terms  the  noblemen  who  announced  his  disgrace,  and 
finally  left  the  castle-yard  amidst  the  yells  and  exe- 
crations of  the  people,  who  treated  him  as  the  oppo- 
nent of  their  rights ;  and  from  whom,  moreover,  a 
favourite  in  disgrace  seldom  meets  with  much  sym- 
pathy or  support.  England  was  now  no  place  for 
the  archbishop,  who  crossed  over  to  France,  and  after- 
wards proceeded  to  the  court  of  his  papal  protector, 
Alexander. 

Expeditions  against  the  native  princes  of  Wales, 
and  the  settlement  of  disputes  regarding  his  conti- 
nental possessions,  engaged  the  attention  of  Henry 
for  several  years  after  this  violent  rupture  with  the 
stubborn  archbishop.  In  the  first  he  was  not  always 
successful,  as  the  fierce  and  daring  courage  of  the 
mountaineers  baffled  him  on  more  than  one  occasion; 
but  in  the  adjustment  of  the  latter,  his  usual  dex- 
terity was  conspicuous,  and  by  uniting  his  third  son, 
Geoffry,  with  Constantia,  daughter  of  Conan,  earl  of 
Richmond,  he  secured  to  his  family  the  important 
and  extensive  province  of  Bretagne.  While  thus  oc- 


12  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

cupied  inFrance,the  consideration  of  the  oldquestionof 
church  rights  was  again  thrust  upon  him  by  the  pope, 
who  warmly  espoused  the  cause  of  Becket,  and  sub- 
jected the  prelates  who  had  opposed  him  to  ecclesi- 
astical censure  ;  insomuch  that  Henry,  who,  though 
superior  to  much  of  the  prejudice  of  his  times,  was 
not  prepared  to  come  to  open  rupture  with  the  pope, 
consented  to  receive  Becket  at  various  conferences, 
whereat  such  modifications  of  the  Constitutions  were 
agreed  upon,  as  seemed  to  promise  for  the  future 
more  amity  between  the  king  and  the  primate.  Not- 
withstanding these,  no  perfect  confidence  could  sub- 
sist between  parties  whose  feelings  had  been  so  far 
outraged  by  each  other.  Becket,  on  his  departure, 
asked  the  kiss  of  peace,  a  token  of  reconciliation 
which  the  king  had  not  the  hypocrisy  to  accord. 

"We  have  already  stated  that  the  French  king  took 
every  opportunity  of  strengthening  the  hands  of 
Henry's  enemies.  The  English  king,  according  to 

»  O  O7  O 

the  tenure  of  his  continental  territories,  was  only  a 
vassal  of  Louis,  and  his  barons  were  therefore  enti- 
tled to  appeal  against  him  to  their  feudal  lord  when- 
ever they  deemed  themselves  aggrieved.  Louis  rather 
encouraged  than  discountenanced  these  appeals,  in  dis- 
posing of  which  he  found  frequent  opportunity  of 
loosening  his  rival's  authority,  until  matters  went  so 
far  that  a  general  war  between  France  and  England 
was  expected.  Neither  monarch,  however,  was  will- 
ing to  strike  the  first  effectual  blow,  and  another  at- 
tempt was  made,  by  way  of  marriage,  to  reconcile  the 
contending  parties.  The  young  prince  Henry  was 
already  espoused  to  one  daughter  of  Louis.  His 
brother  Richard,  then  a  boy  of  twelve  years  of  age, 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  13 

was  now  affianced  to  another  daughter,  Adelais;  and 
Henry  consented  to  give  up  Anjou  and  Maine  to  his 
eldest,  and  Aquitaine  to  his  second  son.  It  was  at 
the  same  time  stipulated  that  these  possessions  should 
be  held  directly  of  the  French  king, — an  imprudent 
arrangement  certainly  for  Henry,  and  one  to  which 
much  of  the  domestic  discord  which  embittered  the 
last  hours  of  his  life  may  be  attributed.  Shortly 
afterwards  he  procured  the  coronation  of  his  eldest 
son,  in  spite  of  the  menaces  of  Beckct,  who  alleged 
that,  as  .primate  of  England,  he  alone  possessed  the 
right  of  officiating  at  the  august  ceremony. 

The  career  of  this  turbulent  priest  now  drew  near 
its  close.  Henry,  with  the  probable  view  of  put- 
ting an  end  to  the  disturbances,  revolts,  and  misun- 
derstandings arising  from  the  intrigues  of  the  arch- 
bishop with  foreign  powers,  and  believing  that  he 
would  be  better  able  to  control  this  factious  subject 
in  England  than  while  abroad,  made  at  last  such 

~  f 

concessions  as  met  with  the  unqualified  approbation 
of  the  French  king  and  his  nobility ;  nor  could 
Becket,  although  still  reluctant,  refuse  to  accept  them 
without  forfeiting  the  countenance  of  his  most  pow- 
erful supporters.  After  six  years  of  exile,  the  arch- 
bishop returned  to  England,  but  more  in  the  guise  of 
a  conqueror  than  of  an  offending  but  pardoned  sub- 
ject. Policy,  if  not  a  better  feeling,  might  have  sug- 
gested to  him  the  propriety  of  avoiding  all  ostentatious, 
or  offensive  demeanour,  but  the  nature  of  the  man 
was  such,  that  at  all  risks  he  resolved  to  gratify  his 
personal  vanity,  although  at  the  expense  of  his  sove- 
reign's credit ;  and  accordingly,  no  sooner  had  he 
landed,  than,  instead  of  returning  to  his  diocese,  he) 


14  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

commenced  a  sort  of  triumphal  procession  through 
Kent,  in  the  course  of  which  the  people,  instigated 
by  the  monks,  and  attracted  by  the  unusual  magni- 
ficence of  his  parade,  welcomed  him  with  shouts  of 
joy.  His  intention  was  to  have  proceeded  directly 
to  Woodstock,  and  paid  his  respects  to  the  young 
king,  but  that  prince,  in  whose  memory  the  personal 
insult  conveyed  in  the  attempted  interdict  by  the 
archbishop  to  his  coronation  was  still  fresh,  despatch- 
ed a  messenger  to  Becket,  declining  his  attendance, 
and  peremptorily  ordering  him  to  retire  to  his  diocese. 
This  unexpected  rebuff  had  the  effect  of  compelling 
him  to  return  to  Canterbury  without  an  audience, 
but  not  of  controlling  his  factious  spirit.  On  Christ- 
mas day  thereafter  he  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  after 
inveighing  bitterly  against  those  who  had  in  any  way 
opposed  his  views,  proceeded  to  excommunicate 
various  noblemen  for  aggressions  on  the  property  of 
the  church,  and  for  personal  insults  offered  to  himself; 
and  amongst  the  number  of  those  thus  violently  thrust 
from  the  pale  of  the  church  were  several  of  the  king's 
ministers  and  officers,  with  persons  of  the  highest 
station  in  the  realm. 

Henry  was  not  the  man  to  brook  such  insolent 
defiance  of  his  power.  He  was  still  residing  in 
France  when  the  news  of  this  outrageous  proceeding 
was  brought  him,  and  in  the  first  transports  of  his 
anger  is  reported  to  have  exclaimed,  "  Is  there  not 
one  coward  of  ye  all  who  eat  my  bread,  who  will 
free  me  from  this  turbulent  priest?"  This  hasty 
expression  was  but  too  literally  interpreted  by  four 
of  his  knights,  William  de  Tracy,  Hugh  de  More- 
ville,  Reginald  Fitzurse,  and  Richard  Brito,  who 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  15 

secretly  departed  from  the  court,  repaired  to  Canter- 
bury, and  there,  under  circumstances  of  peculiar 
barbarity,  murdered  Becket  at  the  altar. 

The  sensation  which  this  bloody  tragedy  produced, 
not  only  in  England  but  over  all  Christendom,  was 
excessive.  The  thunders  of  the  church  were  in- 
stantly levelled  against  all  who  had  the  remotest 
share  in  the  murder,  and  against  every  one  who  should 
harbour  or  defend  the  assassins.  Henry  himself  was 
compelled,  by  a  speedy  submission,  an  earnest  avowal 
of  his  own  innocence,  and  the  payment  of  a  large  sum, 
to  purchase  a  suspension  from  the  sentence  of  excom- 
munication. The  imperious  and  haughty  Becket, 
whose  life  had  been  a  tissue  of  arrogance  and  dis- 
loyalty, was  canonized  by  Alexander  without  the 
usual  formalities;  and  the  excitement  which  prevailed 
throughout  England  was  such,  that  the  king  deemed 
it  necessary,  without  waiting  for  the  result  of  the 
investigation  ordered  by  the  pope,  to  divert  the  minds 
of  his  subjects  by  engaging  in  some  foreign  enter- 
prise. This  has  always  been  a  favourite  scheme  of 
monarchs  to  avert  the  evil  effects  of  their  own  mis- 
government  at  home,  for  no  plea  is  more  specious 
than  that  of  national  glory,  and  how  can  national 
glory  be  more  easily  attained  than  by  ravaging  and 
plundering  the  possessions  of  a  weaker  neighbour  ? 

Ireland  was  the  country  whose  conquest  was 
doomed  to  avert  the  consequences  of  Beckers  mur- 
der from  the  head  of  the  English  king.  Its  geogra- 
phical situation  marked  it  as  a  desirable  acquisition ; 
and  the  inferiority  of  the  natives  in  the  art  of  war, 
and  the  dissensions  which  prevailed  amongst  the  va- 
rious chieftains  or  kings,  combined  to  render  it  an 


16  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

easy  prey.  Richard  de  Clare,  surnamed  Strongbow, 
Earl  of  Pembroke,  a  nobleman  of  ruined  fortunes, 
had  already  landed  in  Ireland  with  a  numerous  body 
of  adventurers,-  had  formed  an  alliance  with  Dermot 
king  of  Leinster,  and  had  possessed  himself  of  Water- 
ford  and  Dublin.  It  was  probably  the  intention  of 
Strongbow  to  found  a  dynasty  of  his  own  upon  the 
island,  but  if  so  he  was  greatly  disappointed,  for 
Henry  no  sooner  learned  the  success  of  his  vassal 
than  he  issued  a  proclamation,  forbidding  any  more 
of  his  subjects  to  cross  over  to  Ireland,  and  recalling 
all  those  who  had  already  joined  in  the  expedition. 
Strongbow,  like  the  jackal  at  the  approach  of  the 
lion,  felt  himself  compelled  to  abandon  his  booty, 
but  by  submission  and  proffers  of  assistance,  was 
allowed  to  retain,  as  vassal,  a  portion  of  the  territories 
which  he  expected  to  have  governed  as  lord.  Henry 
landed  at  AVaterford,  proceeded  to  Dublin,  and  com- 
pleted the  work  which  his  liegeman  Pembroke  had 
begun.  All  the  native  princes  of  Ireland,  with  the 
exception  of  those  of  Ulster,  yielded  to  his  authority. 
Henry,  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1172,  returned  to 
England  ;  and  we  shall  here  conclude  our  notice  of 
the  conquest  of  Ireland  by  stating  that,  after  his  de- 
parture, the  natives  recommenced  hostilities,  and 
almost  succeeded  in  driving  the  English  from  the 
island.  A  new  treaty,  however,  was  made  with 
O'Connor,  king  of  Connaught,  who  consented  to  hold 
his  lands  as  vassal  of  the  English  crown,  and  in  1177, 
Henry's  general,  De  Courcy,  ancestor  of  the  noble 
family  of  Kinsale,  succeeded  in  subjugating  the  fer- 
tile province  of  Ulster.  John,  the  youngest  son  of 
Henry,  was  appointed  by  his  father  lord  of  Ireland, 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  17 

and  was  confirmed  in  that  high  dignity  by  the  pope, 
but  his  wanton  and  insolent  behaviour  to  the  native 
chiefs  was  stich  as  to  excite  a  rebellion,  and  after 
nine  months  of  misgovernment  he  was  recalled  in 
disgrace.  The  subsequent  management  of  Ireland 
was  left  to  John  de  Courcy,  an  old  and  sagacious 
soldier,  who  discharged  his  trust  with  success. 

Henry  did  not  tarry  long  in  England,  but  pro- 
ceeded with  all  expedition  to  Normandy,  where,  after 
various  conferences,  he  succeeded  in  making  peace 
with  the  papal  legates,  and  was  absolved  from  all 
censure  on  account  of  the  murder  of  Becket.  The 
following  were  the  terms  upon  which  he  obtained 
this  immunity.  He  took  a  solemn  vow  and  obliga- 
tion that  he  would,  at  the  sight  of  the  Knights  Tem- 
plars, consign  as  much  money  as  would  maintain  two 
hundred  men-at-arms  for  the  space  of  one  year  in 
the  Holy  Land  ; — that  he  would  take  the  cross,  if 
the  pope  desired  it,  and  serve  against  the  Saracens 
either  in  Palestine  or  in  Spain  ; — that  he  would  re- 
store the  possessions  of  the  see  of  Canterbury  in  full, 
and  reinstate  in  his  favour  all  persons  whom  he 
might  in  any  way  have  injured  on  account  of  their 
adherence  to  the  now  sanctified  Becket  *. 

All  subjects  of  dispute  seemed  now  to  have  termi- 
nated, and  Henry  had  every  reason  to  expect  that 
the  remainder  of  his  reign  would  be  passed  in 
tranquillity.  Reconciled  to  the  pope,  and  at  peace 
with  his  neighbours,  he  flattered  himself  that  every 
threatening  cloud  had  disappeared  from  the  political 
horizon,  and  knew  not  that  the  storm  was  brewing 

*See  Hoveden,  "  Purgatio  Hcnrici  Regis,  pro  morte  beati  Tbo- 
mae,"  and  the  "  Charta  absolutionis." 
C 


18  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OP 

at  home.  His  eldest  son,  Henry,  a  vain  and  ambi- 
tious prince,  was  so  wrought  upon  by  his  father-in- 
law  Louis,  that  he  had  the  audacity  to  demand  from 
his  father  that  he  should  cede  to  him  entirely  either 
Normandy  or  England,  on  the  plea  that,  after  his 
formal  coronation,  it  was  beneath  his  dignity  to  re- 
main in  the  simple  capacity  of  a  subject.  Henry  of 
course  met  this  proposal  with  a  flat  denial,  accusing 
his  son  of  ingratitude,  whereupon  the  prince,  with- 
out further  expostulation,  left  his  presence,  and  fled 
to  the  court  of  his  father-in-law.  Henry,  who, 
whatever  might  have  been  his  other  faults,  was  not 
wanting  in  affection  towards  his  children,  sent  to  the 
king  of  France,  entreating  him  not  to  countenance  a 
rebellious  son  in  his  resistance  to  a  father's  command, 
and  received  in  reply  a  taunting  letter  from  Louis, 
wherein  the  prince's  right  to  the  throne  of  England, 
after  his  coronation,  was  broadly  asserted,  and  his  de- 
termination to  support  that  right  as  openly  avowed. 
Hardly  was  Henry  recovered  from  the  shock  thus 
suddenly  inflicted,  than  his  feelings  were  still  more 
severely  lacerated  by  the  departure  of  two  other  sons, 
Richard  and  Geoffry,  who  asserted  the  same  claims 
as  their  elder  brother,  to  the  territories  of  Poitou  and 
Bretagne.  It  now  became  evident  that  queen  Elea- 
nor was  the  instigator  of  these  domestic  quarrels. 
She  was  a  woman  of  a  high  and  ambitious  spirit, 
qualified  by  her  own  talents  to  have  ruled  an  ex- 
tensive empire,  and  most  jealous  of  any  innovation 
on  rights  which  she  considered  her  own.  We  have 
already  mentioned  that  she  brought  to  Henry  a  dowry 
of  seven  important  provinces.  These  she  fain  would 
have  governed  herself,  but  Henry  was  too  fond  of 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  19 

rule  to  commit  any  part  of  his  jurisdiction  to  another; 
and  the  queen  now  sought  to  secure  to  her  children 
those  possessions  which  she  could  not  in  her  own  per- 
son enjoy.  Moreover,  her  attachment  to  her  husband 
had  long  been  converted  into  a  bitter  and  vindictive 
feeling.  The  infidelities  of  Henry  were  notorious.  He 
had  many  mistresses,  the  most  famous  of  whom  was 
Rosamond  de  Clifford,  the  subject  of  so  much  romance; 
and  his  natural  offspring  were  not  only  promoted,  but 
publicly  acknowledged  by  the  king.  All  this  was 
gall  and  wormwood  to  the  proud  soul  of  Eleanor. 
With  that  deep  resentment  which  none  but  a  slighted 
woman  can  feel,  she  determined  to  repay  the  injury 
and  wrong  ;  and  the  method  she  adopted  of  alienating 
the  affections  of  her  children  from  their  father,  and 
instigating  them  to  rebellion,  was  the  surest  way  of 
effecting  her  revenge.  Although  successful  so  far,  she 
failed  in  making  her  own  escape,  for  when  on  her 
way,  disguised  in  male  attire,  to  join  her  sons  at  the 
French  court,  she  was  seized  by  the  emissaries  of  her 
husband,  and  placed  in  confinement,  from  which  she 
was  not  released  until  her  son  Richard  succeeded  to 
the  throne. 

The  overtures  of  an  ambassador,  whom  Henry  sent 
with  the  view  of  effecting  an  amicable  arrangement 
with  his  children  and  their  protector,  the  king  of 
France,  were  peremptorily  rejected ;  and  at  Easter 
1173,  a  great  assembly  was  held  at  Paris,  when  Louis 
and  his  barons  bound  themselves  by  oath  to  assist  the 
young  king  in  prosecuting  his  rights;  he,  at  the 
same  time  engaging  never  to  make  peace  with  his 
father  without  the  knowledge  and  consent  of  France. 
Philip,  earl  of  Flanders,  and  William  the  Lion,  king 


20  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

of  Scotland,  the  one  tempted  by  the  promise  of  the 
earldom  of  Kent,  and  the  other  by  that  of  Northum- 
berland, joined  the  confederacy,  and  thus  Henry,  from 
a  situation  of  almost  perfect  security,  was  menaced 
with  danger  on  every  side  of  his  dominions.  As  it 
was  impossible  to  place  implicit  reliance  on  his  own 
subjects,  many  of  whom,  particularly  the  barons, 
would  have  rejoiced  to  see  the  throne  occupied  by  a 
less  careful  and  vigilant  monarch,  he  took  into  his 
service  twenty  thousand  of  those  free  companions  or 
Brabanters,  who,  like  the  Swiss  in  later  times,  were 
ready  to  engage  in  any  war  if  sufficiently  paid,  and 
who,  notwithstanding  their  mercenary  habit,  were 
reckoned  the  best  soldiers  of  that  age. 

Philip  of  Flanders  was  the  first  of  the  confederates 
who  began  the  war.  He  entered  Normandy  at  the 
head  of  a  numerous  army ;  reduced  Albemarle  and 
Neuchatel,  and  invested  Driencourt.  At  this  latter 
place  his  brother,  Matthew  of  Boulogne,  was  mortally 
wounded,  and  the  earl,  struck  by  remorse  with  this 
unhappy  event,  which  he  considered  as  a  judgment 
upon  him  for  engaging  in  so  unnatural  a  war,  drew 
off  his  forces  and  returned  to  his  own  country.  Louis 
and  the  young  king  invested  Verneuil,  which  they 
reduced  by  famine,  and  Henry,  marching  to  relieve 
the  place,  had  the  mortification  on  his  arrival  to  be- 
hold it  in  flames.  An  attack,  however,  upon  the 
rear-guard  of  the  French  army  was  crowned  with 
success,  and  a  large  body  of  insurgents  who  had  taken 
possession  of  the  town  of  Dol,  were  defeated  and 
made  prisoners.  Another  conference  was  now  held 
near  Gisors,  when  Henry  made  most  reasonable  pro- 
posals to  his  sons,  offering  the  two  eldest  half  the 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  21 

revenues  of  the  territories  they  demanded,  with  a 
certain  number  of  castles,  and  Geoffry,  the  estates  of 
earl  Conan,  in  Bretagne,  provided  his  marriage  should 
be  sanctioned  by  the  pope.  If  left  to  themselves  the 
young  princes  would  probably  have  accepted  of  these 
offers,  but  Louis,  who  having  kindled  the  torch  of 
rebellion  was  by  no  means  desirous  that  it  should  be 
so  easily  quenched,  threw  fresh  obstacles  in  the  way, 
and  the  earl  of  Leicester,  a  notable  rebel,  who  had 
joined  heart  and  hand  in  the  confederacy,  conducted 
himself  so  violently  to  the  king  that  the  conference 
was  broken  off  in  disgust. 

In  the  meantime  Richard  de  Lacy,  the  grand  jus- 
ticiary, had  in  revenge  for  the  earl's  revolt  taken  the 
town  of  Leicester,  and  in  conjunction  with  Hum- 
phrey de  Bohun,  the  lord  high  constable,  repulsed  the 
Scots,  who  had  begun  to  pillage  the  frontier ;  after- 
wards they  carried  the  war  into  the  Scottish  terri- 
tory, burned  the  town  of  Berwick,  and  ravaged  the 
Lothians.  On  their  return  from  this  expedition,  the 
generals  of  the  king  fell  in  with  the  earl  of  Leicester, 
who,  along  with  Bigod  earl  of  Norfolk,  was  marching 
to  the  relief  of  his  town,  and  made  him  prisoner.  The 
approach  of  winter  put  an  end  to  these  hostilities  for 
the  present ;  but  in  the  ensuing  spring  they  were  re- 
newed with  double  vigour.  Although  the  Norman 
dominions  of  the  king  were  threatened  with  a  most 
formidable  invasion  from  France,  the  state  of  England 
was  even  more  alarming.  Fresh  armies  of  the  Scots 
.poured  into  the  northern  counties,  carrying  everything 
before  them.  Yorkshire  was  in  a  state  of  revolt. 
Earl  Ferrers,  and  David  earl  of  Huntingdon,  brother 
of  the  Scottish  king,  were  in  arms  in  the  heart  of 


22  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

England.  Norwich  was  occupied  by  the  earl  of  Nor- 
folk, and  a  numerous  fleet  of  the  earl  of  Flafliders  lay 
at  Gravelingen,  waiting  for  a  favourable  wind  to 
transport  prince  Henry  and  his  army  to  the  coast. 
Under  these  circumstances,  the  return  of  the  king  to 
England  was  indispensable,  and  accordingly,  without 
permitting  his  enemies  to  gain  intelligence  of  his  in- 
tention, he  set  sail  for  Southampton. 

The  rebellion  of  his  sons,  the  ingratitude  of  his 
nobles,  the  danger  of  his  kingdom,  all  seem  to  have 
weighed  most  heavily  upon  the  mind  of  Henry,  and 
to  have  impressed  him  with  the  belief  that  so  many 
calamities  could  not  be  the  result  of  mere  accident, 
but  were  intended  as .  a  direct  visitation  from  the 
hand  of  God,  in  token  of  his  displeasure  for  the  mur- 
der of  Becket.  Perhaps,  too,  the  steps  which  he  now 
adopted  were  not  only  meant  to  reconcile  him  with 
Heaven,  but  also  to  conciliate  his  siibjects,  a  great 
proportion  of  whom  were  convinced  of  the  saintly 
qualifications  of  the  defunct  archbishop,  and  quoted 
with  reverential  awe  the  wonders  that  were  worked 
at  his  shrine.  As  soon  as  he  landed,  Henry  proceeded 
direct  to  Canterbury,  walked  barefooted  through  the 
streets  to  the  tomb  of  Becket,  protesting  his  innocence 
of  the  deed  in  all  save  the  utterance  of  a  hasty  ex- 
pression ;  submitted  to  be  scourged  on  the  naked 
back  by  several  monks  ;  and,  after  performing  length- 
ened devotions,  returned  to  London,  where  the  fatigue 
he  had  undergone  and  his  anxiety  of  mind  threw 
him  into  a  fever.  From  this  he  was  recovered  by  the 
joyful  news  of  the  capture  of  William  of  Scotland  by 
Ralph  de  Glanville,  an  exploit  which,  by  the  way,  re- 
dounded less  to  the  credit  of  the  victors  than  of  the 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  23 

vanquished*.  Fresh  vigour  was  instilled  into  the 
frame  of  Henry  by  these  unexpected  tidings.  He 
instantly  set  out  to  join  his  army,  but  before  he  reach- 
ed it  the  danger  was  over.  On  the  loss  of  their  king 
the  Scots  had  retired  to  their  own  country.  David 
of  Huntingdon  had  laid  down  his  arms,  and  the 
English  barons  were  fain  to  secure  their  safety  by 
flight  or  by  surrender.  "Within  three  weeks  from 
the  time  of  Henry's  landing,  tranquillity  was  restored 
to  England,  and  the  army  which  had  been  levied  for 
the  purpose  of  opposing  the  Scots,  was  transported 
to  the  shores  of  Normandy. 

On  his  arrival,  Henry  found  his  sons,  along  with 
the  king  of  France  and  the  earl  of  Flanders,  who  by 
this  time  had  overcome  his  compunction,  in  the  act 
of  besieging  Rouen.  The  English  army  proved  too 
strong  for  the  confederates,  who  burned  their  engines 
and  retired  without  hazarding  a  general  engagement. 
Henry,  who  all  along  appears  to  have  been  unwilling 
to  continue  the  contest  with  Louis,  whose  vassal  he 
was  for  his  Norman  territories,  again  made  overtures 
for  a  conference,  and  this  time  they  were  not  rejected. 
Peace  was  made  upon  very  advantageous  terms  for 
the  princes,  who  certainly  received  more  favour  than 
they  were  entitled  to  from  their  rebellious  conduct. 
The  young  king  Henry  received  two  castles  in  Nor- 
mandy, with  a  yearly  subsidy  of  fifteen  thousand 
Angevin  pounds ;  Richard  was  gifted  with  two  cas- 
tles in  Poitou,  and  half  the  revenue  of  that  province ; 
and  GeofFry  with  two  in  Bretagne,  and  half  the  estates 
of  earl  Conan.  William  of  Scotland  was  released 

*  For  an  account  of  this  skirmish  in  which  William  was  surprised, 
see  "  Chronica  Gualteri  Hemiugford,  Cap.  XXI.'1 


24  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

upon  harder  conditions.  He  was  compelled  to  take 
an  oath  of  fealty  to  the  king  as  his  liege  lord,  and  to 
deliver  up  as  security  the  castles  of  Edinburgh,  Stir- 
ling, Roxburgh,  Jedburgh,  and  Berwick,  along  with 
his  brother  and  twenty  barons  as  hostages.  These 
terms  were  at  last  agreed  to,  and  peace  being  once 
more  restored,  Henry  along  with  his  eldest  son 
returned  to  England,  and  the  whole  nation,  wearied 
of  war,  prayed  that  no  domestic  feud  might  again 
disturb  their  tranquillity. 

Richard,  who  had  received  his  knighthood  from 
Louis,  began  to  signalize  himself  by  displaying  proofs 
of  a  warlike  and  enterprising  genius.  The  moun- 
tains of  the  Pyrenees  bordering  on  Guienne  were  at 
this  time  infested  by  bands  of  robbers,  who,  descend- 
ing in  large  hordes  upon  the  lower  country,  commit- 
ted great  ravages  and  depredation.  These  he  hunted 
to  their  fastnesses  and  almost  extirpated.  He  then 
turned  his  arms  against  some  refractory  nobles  with 
like  success ;  and  also  took  by  storm  the  strong  fort- 
ress of  Taillebourg,  formerly  reputed  impregnable. 
In  the  meantime,  his  brother  Henry  found  occupa- 
tion by  enacting  the  part  of  a  knight-errant,  visiting 
every  tournament  which  was  proclaimed,  and  hold; 
ing  others,  wherein  he  often  carried  off  the  prize  of 
superior  skill  and  activity.  Geoffry  remained  in 
Bretagne,  and  also  signalized  himself  by  quelling  an 
insurrection  raised  by  Guiomar,  viscount  of  Leon. 

The  desperate  state  of  the  Christians  in  the  Holy 
Land  under  Baldwin  the  Leper,  now  attracted  the 
attention  of  all  the  princes  of  Christendom,  and 
for  the  first  time  Henry  bethought  him  of  his  vow 
to  lead  a  crusade  into  Palestine.  The  affairs  of 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  25 

•Jerusalem  will  be  so  fully  narrated  in  the  sequel, 
that  we  need  not  here  state  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances which  gave  rise  to  the  appeal ;  suffice  it  to 
say  that  the  kings  of  England  and  France  agreed  to 
proceed  together,  for  the  relief  of  the  harassed  Chris- 
tians, and  would  in  all  probability  have  done  so,  had 
not  the  mutual  arrangement  been  dissolved  by  the 
illness  and  death  of  Louis.  Henry,  after  this,  applied 
himself  to  the  internal  arrangement  of  his  kingdom, 
and  enacted  many, wise  and  salutary  laws,  tending 
to  restrain  the  power  of  the  nobles,  and  to  promote 
the  administration  of  equal  justice.  He  also  com- 
pleted the  conquest  of  Ireland,  to  which  we  have 
already  alluded. 

In  1185,  a  deputation  from  queen  Sybilla  of  Jeru- 
salem, headed  by  the  patriarch  Heraclius  and  Roger 
du  Moulin,  grand-master  of  the  Hospitallers,  arrived 
in  England  and  craved  his  personal  assistance.  They 
had  previously  visited  the  court  of  France,  where 
the  young  king,  Philip  Augustus,  though  large  in  his 
promises  of  support,  declined  for  the  present  to 
engage  personally  in  the  enterprise  ;  and  their  hopes 
now  rested  upon  Henry,  whom  they  considered 
bound  by  his  former  oath  to  draw  the  sword  in  their 
defence  against  the  infidel,  especially  in  such  a  crisis, 
when  the  existence  of  Jerusalem  itself  was  at  stake. 
Henry  received  the  embassy  with  much  kindness, 
but  declined  pledging  himself  to  the  crusade,  until  he 
had  convened  the  estates  of  the  realm,  and  taken 
their  opinion  upon  the  expediency  of  the  measure. 
A  great  assembly  was  accordingly  held  at  London, 
where  not  only  the  English  nobles,  but  William  of 
Scotland  and  his  brother  David,  were  present,  and 


26  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

Henry  submitted  to  their  decision  the  question  of  a 
crusade.  The  opinion  expressed  by  the  nobles  was 
contrary  to  the  wishes  of  the  patriarch.  Richard, 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  himself  maintained  that 
the  oath  taken  by  the  king  might  be,  and  ought  to 
be,  dispensed  with ;  that  Henry  had  taken  another 
oath  at  his  coronation,  to  the  effect  that  he  would 
always  watch  over  the  welfare  of  his  subjects  ;  that 
this  oath,  being  the  tenure  of  his  crown,  superseded 
all  others,  and  that  a  crusade  to  Palestine  was  obvi- 
ously incompatible  with  the  first  duties  of  a  monarch. 
The  opinion  thus  expressed  was  no  doubt  agreeable 
to  Henry,  who,  in  fact,  had  such  experience  of  the 
temper  of  his  sons,  that  he  durst  not  have  left  his 
kingdom ;  but  to  sweeten  the  disappointment  he 
privately  sent  for  the  ambassadors,  and  having  ex- 
plained to  them  more  fully  the  relation  in  which 
he  stood  with  France,  concluded  by  making  them 
an  offer  of  fifty  thousand  marks,  and  added  that  he 
would  further  bind  himself  to  support  any  of  his 
subjects  who  might  be  willing  to  take  up  the  cross. 
But  the  old  patriarch  Heraclitis,  whose  heart  was  in 
the  Holy  City,  indignantly  spurned  the  offer,  and 
burst  into  a  torrent  of  the  wildest  invective  against 
the  king.  "  It  is  not  for  money,  but  for  men  we 
come,"  cried  he.  "  And  as  for  you,  sir,  you  have 
hitherto  reigned  with  abundance  of  glory — but 
know  that  God,  whose  cause  you  have  now  aban- 
doned, is  about  also  to  abandon  you,  and  will  let 
you  see  the  consequence  of  your  enormous  ingrati- 
tude for  all  the  riches  and  kingdoms  you  have  ob- 
tained by  your  crimes !  You  have  violated  your 
faith  to  the  king  of  France  who  is  your  sovereign, 


RICHARD    THE  FIRST.  27 

and  you  make  that  your  excuse  for  refusing  this  war, 
because  you  are  afraid  he  will  make  war  upon  you. 
You  have  barbarously  murdered  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  and  yet  you  refuse,  in  expiation  of  your 
guilt,  to  undertake  this  holy  war,  for  the  defence  of 
the  Holy  Land,  to  which  you  have  engaged  your- 
self on  the  blessed  sacrament !  Never  believe " — 
continued  he,  observing  the  colour  rush  to  the  face 
of  the  king — "  Never"  believe  that  I  dread  the  fury 
which  glows  in  your  cheeks  and  in  your  eyes,  and 
which  the  truth  of  what  I  have  now  spoken  has 
kindled  in  your  soul — There  !  take  my  head  !  Treat 
me  as  you  did  St.  Thomas  !  I  had  rather  die  by 
your  hand  in  England  than  by  that  of  the  Saracens 
in  Syria,  since  I  esteem  you  little  less  than  a  Sara- 
cen yourself !"  It  is  much  to  the  credit  of  Henry, 
whose  temper  was  none  of  the  coolest,  that  he  did 
not  take  the  patriarch  at  his  word,  or  at  least  in 
some  way  exact  revenge  for  his  insolent  and  mad 
demeanour ;  but  former  experience  had  by  this  time 
taught  him  the  necessity  of  bridling  his  passions, 
and  he  dismissed  the  ambassadors  without  any  marks 
of  his  displeasure.  But  one  remark  of  the  aged  pa- 
triarch was  true.  Henry  had  yet  to  drink  deeply  of 
the  bitter  cup  of. afflict! on. 


28  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 


CHAPTER  II. 

Disputes  among  the  Princes — Refusal  of  Richard  to  do  Homage  to 
his  Brother — War  in  Guienne — Prince  Henry  takes  the  Cross — 
His  Death — Conduct  and  Death  of  Geoffry — Cause  of  the  Dis- 
putes between  Richard  and  his  Father — His  Alliance  -with  Philip 
of  France — The  Third  Crusade  preached  by  William  Archbishop 
of  Tyre — Preparations  for  the  Crusade — Saladin's  Tithe — Intri- 
gues of  Philip  and  Richard — Incursions  on  Touraine — Conference 
of  Bon-Moulins — Final  Rupture  between  Henry  and  Richard — 
Interference  of  the  Legate-cardinal  of  Anagni — Spirited  Beha- 
viour of  Philip — War  in  the  Territory  of  Maine — Peace  con- 
cluded at  Azay — Narrative  of  the  Conference  there — Death  of 
Henry  II. — His  Obsequies,  Character,  and  Family. 

IN  the  unfortunate  disputes,  noticed  in  the  prece- 
ding chapter,  which  caused  such  dissension  and  ill- 
blood  in  the  royal  family,  it  will  be  observed  that  the 
young  princes  made  common  cause  together  against 
their  father,  and  that  by  a  general  rebellion  they 
sought  to  obtain  or  wrest  from  him  the  boon  which 
each  particularly  desired  for  himself.  Such  an  al- 
liance was  not  likely  to  be  lasting.  The  same  lust 
for  independence,  and  impatience  of  control,  which 
had  made  them  so  far  transgress  the  laws  of  nature 
and  the  ordinances  of  man,  as  to  league  with  the 
professed  enemies  of  their  parent,  now  began  to  ma- 
nifest itself  in  their  conduct  towards  each  other. 
Henry  was  selfish  and  overbearing  ;  Richard,  head- 
strong and  proud  ;  Geoffrey,  cunning  and  perfidious. 
No  common  bond  of  union  now  existed  among  them. 
Henry  dreaded  Richard  as  a  rival,  and  looked  for- 
ward with  apprehension  to  the  time  when  his  younger 
brother  might  dispute  with  him  the  sovereignty  of 
England  and  of  Normandy.  Richard  even  now  re- 
fused to  own  his  brother  as  superior,  and  Geoffry, 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  29 

with  the  cunning  of  a  base  and  ungenerous  spirit, 
lost  no  opportunity  of  fomenting  the  discord  thus 
unhappily  begun. 

Their  father  Henry,  at  the  instigation  of  his  eldest 
son,  whose  coronation  gave  him  a  plausible  pretext 
for  the  demand,  ordered  the  others  to  do  homage  to 
their  brother  for  the  duchies  of  Brittany  and  Gui- 
enne.  To  this  act  of  submission  Geoffry  assented, 
but  the  high-spirited  Richard  at  first  flatly  refused 
to  owe  fealty  to  his  brother  whilst  his  natural  sove- 
reign and  father  was  alive.  This  declaration  was 
followed  by  a  hot  and  vehement  dispute,  in  which 
young  Henry  took  a  part ;  and  when  Richard,  at  last 
yielding  to  the  entreaties  of  his  father,  consented  to 
waive  his  objection,  the  young  king  spurned  his 
homage,  and  the  brothers  parted  interchanging  threats 
of  animosity  and  defiance.  Richard,  who  knew  his 
brother's  temper  by  experience,  lost  no  time  in  re- 
tiring to  his  own  country,  and  in  fortifying  his  cas- 
tles. The  barons  of  Guienne,  with  whom  Richard, 
overfond  even  in  so  limited  a  stage  of  the  display  of 
his  power,  had  never  been  popular,  offered  their  ser- 
vices to  Henry,  and  that  prince,  collecting  an  army 
of  Brabanters  and  assisted  by  his  brother  Geoffry, 
marched  into  Guienne  and  took  the  town  of  Limoges. 
Richard,  thus  deserted  by  his  own  subjects,  had  re- 
course to  his  father,  who,  commiserating  the  situa- 
tion of  his  son,  and  anxious  for  the  sake  of  all  parties 
to  preserve  the  appearance  of  peace,  marched  with  a 
large  army  into  Guienne  in  the  hope  that  his  mere 
presence  would  cause  the  invaders  to  abandon  their 
design.  But  both  Henry  and  Geoffry  were  weary 
of  their  father's  authority,  and  could  by  no  means 


30  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

be  brought  to  an  amicable  understanding  with  their 
brother.  Nay,  if  we  may  believe  some  historians, 
though  for  the  credit  of  human  nature  we  are  unwill- 
ing to  place  implicit  reliance  on  their  statement,  so 
utterly  were  these  young  men  abandoned  to  their 
own  evil  passions,  that  they  did  not  hesitate  to  plot 
the  death  of  their  father,  whose  greatest  fault  to- 
wards them  had  been  unmerited  indulgence.  Accord- 
ing to  these  writers  the  two  princes  had  appointed 
a  conference  with  the  king  near  the  walls  of  Limoges, 
and  while  he  was  awaiting  their  arrival  the  soldiers 
in  the  castle  discharged  a  flight  of  arrows,  by  one  of 
which  his  horse  was  shot  through  the  head,  and  a 
knight  who  rode  beside  him  was  dangerously  wound- 
ed by  another.  This  detestable  action  so  alarmed 
and  incensed  the  king,  that  prince  Henry  deemed  it 
prudent  to  make  humble  concessions  for  the  present, 
and  to  cast  the  greater  part  of  the  odium  on  the 
shoulders  of  his  brother  GeofFry,  who  still  continued 
rebellious. 

Whether  Henry  took  the  cross  with  the  view  of 
establishing  himself  in  his  father's  favour,  as  Hoveden 
asserts,  concealing  all  the  while  the  most  treacherous 
designs  under  a  penitent  and  saintly  exterior,  or 
whether  he  \vas  really  anxious  to  seek  out  some 
larger  field  of  action  than  Brittany  or  Guienne,  will 
probably  remain  a  disputed  question  for  ever.  The 
annals  of  the  time  do  not  enter  with  sufficient  minute- 
ness into  the  history  of  these  family  feuds  to  enable 
us  to  fathom  the  precise  nature  of  the  motives  which 
actuated  this  unfortunate  young  man  throughout  the 
whole  of  his  short  career.  Enough  only  is  said  to 
show  how  c!e?ply  he  trarsgressed,  and  luw  cruelly 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  31 

these  transgressions  were  felt  by  his  fond  and  affec- 
tionate father.  Certain  it  is  that  very  soon  after  his 
rupture  with  Richard,  and  while  Geoffry  yet  per- 
sisted in  disobedience,  the  prince  announced  his 
intention  of  proceeding  to  Palestine ;  and  the  king, 
though  at  first  disconsolate,  yielded  a  reluctant  con- 
sent. But  the  hand  which  had  been  so  often  raised 
against  a  father  was  not  destined  to  strike  one  blow 
in  defence  of  the  sepulchre  of  Christ.  A  few  days 
after  his  intention  was  made  public,  the  prince  was 
taken  with  a  violent  fever  at  Martel,  in  Turenne, 
and  as  is  often  the  case  with  the  worst  and  most 
dissolute  characters,  when  they  behold  their  end  ap- 
proaching, being  seized  with  the  utmost  terror  and 
remorse,  he  despatched  a  messenger  to  his  father  to 
implore  his  forgiveness,  and  to  entreat  the  favour  of 
a  visit  before  he  died.  But  such  had  been  the  for- 
mer duplicity  of  the  prince,  that  the  advisers  of  the 
king  could  not  place  reliance  in  the  sincerity  of  this 
awful  appeal.  Their  remonstrances  induced  the  king 
to  refrain  from  according  the  visit ;  but  willing,  so  far 
as  he  might,  to  assure  the  dying  penitent  of  his  per- 
fect forgiveness,  Henry  sent  the  archbishop  of 
Bordeaux  with  his  own  signet  as  a"  token  of  love 
and  reconciliation.  The  churchman  hastened  to 
fulfil  his  mission,  and  arrived  just  in  time  to  speak 
the  soothing  message  to  the  prince.  Thus,  says  one 
historian  with  as  much  terseness  as  truth,  "Henricus 
tertius  Anglias  Ilex  Junior  immatura  morte  decessit: 
plane  immatura  si  fetatem  respicias,  sed  multum  sera 
si  actus  attendas*." 

Geoffry,  deprived  of  this  powerful    coadjutor   in 
*  Ilemin^ford. 


32  THE   LIFE  AND    TIMES   OF 

rebellion,  yielded  for  a  time,  and  tranquillity  appear- 
ed again  to  be  established  in  the  royal  family,  until 
a  demand  from  the  king  upon  Richard,  now  heir- 
apparent,  to  cede  his  territory  of  Guienne  in  favour 
of  his  younger  brother  John,  awoke  fresh  dissensions, 
which  ended  in  another  appeal  to  arms  and  was  with 
difficulty  quieted  by  the  intercession  of  the  king. 
Geoffry,  in  this  dispute,  made  common  cause  with 
John ;  indeed  it  was  solely  at  his  instigation  that  the 
younger  brother,  who  never  evinced  the  possession  of 
any  military  genius,  ventured  to  oppose  himself  to 
the  energetic  and  daring  Richard.  Geoffry  next 
proceeded  to  demand  the  earldom  of  Anjou,  which 
being  refused,  he  took  the  opportunity  of  leaving 
his  father's  court,  threw  himself  into  the  arms  of 
Philip  the  young  king  of  France,  who  inherited  his 
father's  personal  pique  against  the  English  king,  and 
offered  to  hold  Brittany  in  direct  vassalage  from 
him,  provided  he  would  countenance  and  aid  his 
designs  upon  Normandy,  and  other  parts  of  his  fa- 
ther's continental  territories.  A  new  war,  however, 
was  prevented  by  the  death  of  this  perfidious  prince, 
who  expired  in  consequence  of  some  internal  injury 
sustained  by  a  fall  from  his  horse  at  a  tournament, 
and  a  truce  of  two  years'  duration  was  concluded 
between  England  and  France. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  Richard,  when  a  boy  of 
twelve  years  old,  was  affianced  to  Adelais,  daughter 
of  Louis  and  sister  of  his  successor  Philip.  This  princess 
was  entrusted  to  the  care  of  Henry,  until  such  time 
as  the  marriage  could  be  properly  solemnized,  and 
had  all  this  time  been  sedulously  kept  from  the  com- 
pany of  her  intended  spouse.  Public  rumour  began 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  33 

to  assign  strange  reasons  for  this  unusual  restriction. 
The  well-known  temperament  of  Henry  gave  rise 
to  suspicions  that  some  other  motive  than  solicitude 
for  the  purity  of  Adelais  had  led  to  her  seclusion,  and 
Richard  was  taught  to  fear  thathe  had  found  asuccess- 
ful  rival  in  the  person  of  his  father.  This  is  a  grave 
charge  against  Henry,  and  one  on  which,  in  justice 
to  his  son,  we  are  bound  to  lay  considerable  weight, 
as  such  an  outrage  of  morality,  if  it  does  not  alto- 
gether extenuate,  .at  least  palliates  the  subsequent 
conduct  of  Richard,  and  makes  it  appear  more  con- 
sistent with  the  character  of  one,  who,  if  headstrong, 
was  never  wanton  in  his  resistance  to  a  father's  au- 
thority. About  the  same  time,  a  report  became  pre- 
valent in  England  that  Henry  intended  to  disinherit 
his  eldest  son,  and  to  leave  the  greater  part  of  his 
dominions  to  the  younger  brother,  John,  who  had  not 
joined  with  his  brothers  in  their  former  cabals,  pro- 
bably because  he  was  then  too  young  to  think  or  act 
for  himself.  The  suspicions  engendered  by  such  a 
report,  and  the  thought  of  the  deeper  injury  to  which 
we  have  above  alluded,  made  Richard  doubly  jealous 
of  his  father,  and  of  those  by  whose  counsel  he  was 
usually  directed.  In  the  young  king  of  France  he 
found  an  apparent  friend,  ready  to  sympathise  with 
him  in  at  least  one  of  his  grievances :  Richard  went 
over  to  Paris,  and  an  extraordinary  intimacy  was 
soon  formed  between  the  two  young  men,  one  deeply 
interested  in  the  recovery  of  his  bride,  and  the  other  in 
the  vindication  of  the  character  and  honour  of  his  sister. 
With  the  view  of  testing  his  father's  feelings  towards 
him  in  the  matter  of  the  succession,  Richard  drew  up 
a  formal  petition,  wherein,  after  premising  that,  as  his 


34  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES    OF 

elder  brother  Henry  had  died  without  issue,  all  the 
rights  and  titles  enjoyed  by  that  prince  were  now 
transferred  to  him  as  heir-apparent,  he  humbly 
prayed  that  his  father  would,  in  consideration  of  the 
circumstances,  and  in  support  of  the  authority  of  his 
heir,  be  pleased  to  consent  to  his  coronation  with  the 
same  ceremonies  previously  granted  to  his  brother. 
This  request  was  met  by  Henry  with  an  absolute  refu- 
sal ;  which  ought  not,  however,  to  be  construed  as  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  designs  in  favour  of  John,  since 
later  experience  had  given  him  ample  proof  of  the 
danger  attendant  upon  such  a  step,  and'  the  folly  of 
expecting  any  one  to  remain  content  with  the  sha- 
dow, whilst  another  possessed  the  substance  and  re- 
ality of  rule.  Richard  considered  this  refusal  as  the 
first  step  towards  his  disinherison,  and  drew  yet  more 
closely  towards  his  new  ally  of  France.  Henry, 
alarmed  at  this  ominous  conjunction,  strove  by  pro- 
mises of  all  reasonable  favour  to  win  back  the  confi- 
dence of  his  son,  but  in  vain.  Richard  remained 
sullen  and  suspicious ;  and  in  a  moment  of  irritation 
received  the  cross,  swearing  that  if  he  were  deprived 
of  his  rights  in  England  and  Normandy,  he  would  go 
to  Palestine,  and  wrest  a  better  kingdom  than  either 
from  the  hands  of  the  infidel.  This  sudden  resolution, 
engendered  by  passion,  soon  however  died  away,  and 
the  confederates  began  to  occupy  themselves  with 
schemes  which  boded  no  good  to  the  peace  and  hap- 
piness of  Henry. 

In  the  commencement  of  the  year  1188,  the  plans 
of  Philip  and  Richard  began  to  be  developed.  The 
former  despatched  an  embassy  to  Henry,  demanding 
the  restitution  of  the  territory  of  Gisors,  and  the  im- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  35 

mediate  solemnization  of  his  sister's  marriage  with 
Richard ;  and  threatening:,  in  the  case  of  a  refusal, 
to  march  an  army  into  the  heart  of  Normandy, 
and  to  lay  it  waste  with  fire  and  sword.  One  at 
least  of  these  demands  was  too  reasonable  to  be 
peremptorily  rejected,  nor  could  Henry  have  done  so 
without  fortifying  the  suspicions  which  his  former 
mysterious  conduct  towards  the  princess  Adelais  had 
excited ;  he  therefore  had  recourse  to  another  con- 
ference, in  which  he  doubted  not  by  his  diplomatic 
skill  to  gain  a  peaceful  triumph,  and  a  meeting  was 
accordingly  held  at  a  place  between  Gisors  and  Trie, 
where,  besides  the  kings,  many  of  the  principal  nobi- 
lity of  both  realms  were  assembled. 

Hardly  had  the  customary  greetings  been  inter- 
changed, when  William,  the  famous  archbishop  of 
Tyre,  ambassador  from  queen  Sybilla  of  Jerusalem, 
rose  up  in  the  midst  and  recounted,  with  great  elo- 
quence and  feeling,  the  struggles  of  the  Christians  in 
the  Holy  Land  against  their  infidel  invaders.  He 
told  them  how  at  the  bloody  fight  of  Tiberias  the 
bravest  of  the  Christian  chivalry  were  slain,  how  their 
king  was  taken,  and  how  the  Holy  Cross  itself  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Saracens.  He  drew  a 
touching  picture  of  the  state  of  Jerusalem  thus  be- 
reaved of  her  defenders  ;  he  told  them  how  every  soul 
within  her  walls,  even  old  men  and  women,  had  taken 
up  arms  in  her  defence  ;  how  Saladin  with  his  victo- 
rious legions  had  encamped  before  the  city  ;  and  how 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  was  lost  to  Christendom.  Then, 
proceeding  in  a  still  higher  strain,  he  conjured  them, 
as  they  loved  their  God,  not  to  suffer  the  country  in 
which  their  blessed  Redeemer  had  lived  and  died  to 
D  2 


36  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

be  profaned  by  the  scorners  of  their  faith ;  he  be- 
sought them  to  have  pity  upon  their  Christian  bre- 
thren, now  driven  from  house  and  home,  or  languish- 
ing in  hopeless  captivity  ;  he  urged  them  instantly 
and  with  one  accord  to  take  the  cross,  and  promised 
them,  in  return,  victory  and  glory  here  and  an  eter- 
nity of  blisshereafter.  This  harangue,  delivered  by  one 
of  the  greatest  orators  of  his  age,  wrought  an  extra- 
ordinary effect  on  the  feelings  of  his  hearers.  By 
common  consent  the  subjects  of  dispute  between  En- 
gland and  France  were  laid  aside,  a  general  crusade 
from  both  kingdoms  was  planned  upon  the  spot ;  and 
Henry,  Philip,  and  the  earl  of  Flanders,  with  all  the 
nobility  present,  received  from  the  hands  of  the  arch- 
bishop the  emblem  which  pledged  them  to  the  holy 
war.  The  vast  concourse  of  people  assembled  to  be- 
hold the  conference  were  transported  with  joy  at  the 
news  of  this  sudden  and  unexpected  concord.  The 
crusades  were  always  popular  amongst  the  lower 
ranks,  who  regarded  Palestine  with  something  of  the 
same  feelings  that  animated  the  Spanish  soldiery  to 
the  conquest  of  Peru,  since  if  religion  had  a  greater 
share  in  producing  their  enthusiasm,  it  was  not  al- 
ways unmingled  with  sentiments  of  a  grosser  and 
more  worldly  kind.  It  was  arranged  that  the  En- 
glish should  carry  a  white,  the  French  a  red,  and  the 
Flemish  a  green  cross,  in  the  projected  expedition ; 
and  that  a  general  tax,  under  the  name  of  the  Saladin 
tithe,  should  be  levied  throughout  the  countries  thus 
engaged.  The  exact  terms  of  this  remarkable  impost 
were  as  follows: — Such  persons  as  engaged  in  the 
crusades  were  exempted  from  the  contribution,  but 
all  others,  clergy  as  well  as  laity,  were  compelled  to 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  37 

pay  one  tenth  of  their  revenues  and  moveables — arms, 
jewels,  and  consecrated  vessels  alone  excepted — to- 
wards defraying  the  expenses  of  the  war.  All  inter- 
est upon  money  lent  was  suspended  during  the  time 
the  debtors  were  engaged  in  service  in  the  Holy  Land, 
and  all  persons  might  mortgage  their  inheritances  or 
benefices  for  the  period  of  three  years,  during  which 
time  the  creditors  should  peaceably  enjoy  them 
whatever  might  happen  to  the  owners.  Other  ar- 
rangementsregardkig  dress,  accoutrements,  behaviour, 
&c.,  were  then  agreed  upon,  and  the  assembly  broke 
up  for  the  purpose  of  putting  these  resolutions  into 
effect.  Henry  returned  to  England,  where  the  Sa- 
ladin  tithe  was  immediately  proclaimed.  Jews  as 
well  as  Christians  were  declared  liable  to  the  impost; 
and  ambassadors  were  sent  to  William  king  of  Scot- 
land, urging  him  to  levy  the  same  tax  throughout 
his  dominions.  In  Scotland,  however,  a  country  too 
remote  and  too  little  in  correspondence  with  its 
neighbours  to  share  in  the  excitement  which  the  loss 

o 

of  Jerusalem  created,  the  proposal  of  so  serious  an 
impost  was  listened  to  with  general  dissatisfaction, 
and  was  negatived  by  a  meeting  of  nobles  and  pre- 
lates to  whom  the  message  of  Henry  was  submitted 
by  the  king. 

Whilst  the  minds  of  all  in  France  and  England 
were  occupied  and  engrossed  with  this  splendid 
phantasy,  whilst  the  one  magnificent  dream  of 
rescuing  Palestine  from  the  dominion  of  the  heathen, 
drove  the  realities  of  life,  and  the  urgent  demands 
of  political  arrangement  from  the  thoughts  of  others, 
Richard  still  continued  to  brood  over  his  own  wrongs 
and  disappointments,  and  came  at  last  to  regard  the 


38  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

cause  of  Christendom  as  hostile  and  injurious  to  his 
own.  What  mattered  it  to  him  whether  the  cross 
or  the  crescent  waved  on  the  towers  of  Jerusalem,  if 
his  own  long -cherished  hopes  were  to  be  abandoned, 
and  his  hereditary  dominions  taken  from  him,  and 
bestowed  upon  another  ?  or  how  could  the  brightest 
laurels  he  might  win  abroad  repay  him  for  the  de- 
fection and  treachery  that  were  sure  to  undermine 
him  at  home  ?  Had  he  yielded  to  the  universal 
impression,  and,  with  such  consequences  staring 
him  in  the  face,  embarked  as  a  simple  soldier  in 
that  long  and  doubtful  expedition,  his  character 
would  have  remained  to  subsequent  historians  either 
an  enigma  or  a  cause  of  dispute  :  some  might  have 
praised  him  as  heroic — some  represented  him  as 
disinterested — but  the  greater  part,  beyond  all  doubt, 
would  have  set  him  down  as  negligent  or  weak.  In 
history  we  are  bound  to  judge  men  by  the  common 
standard,  not  certainly  extenuating  their  faults,  but 
not  requiring  from  them  that  extraordinary  self- 
denial  which  better  suits  the  stoic  than  the  Chris- 
tian ;  and  adhering  to  this  view,  even  without  losing 
sight  of  the  prejudices  of  the  times,  we  are  free  to 
confess  our  opinion  that  Richard,  under  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, was  justifiable  in  the  motive  which  led 
him  to  assert  his  natural  rights,  although  the  man- 
ner of  such  assertion  might  be  rash,  culpable,  and 
impolitic.  Philip  was  the  first  to  whom  he  opened 
his  mind,  and  history  leaves  us  in  doubt  of  the  nature 
of  that  eventful  conference.  By  some  it  is  sup- 
posed that  a  secret  understanding  existed  between 
the  princes,  and  that  the  subsequent  conduct  of 
Richard  was  privately  sanctioned  by  Philip.  Others 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  39 

have  asserted  that  the  resentment  of  the  English 
prince  was  kindled  as  much  against  the  king  of 
France  on  account  of  what  he  deemed  his  unworthy 
defection,  as  against  his  father  for  his  cold  and 
obstinate  refusal.  \Ve  are  rather  inclined,  from 
the  evidence  adduced,  to  lean  to  the  former  opinion, 
and  think  that  after  events  sufficiently  support  the 
allegation  of  a  secret  understanding  between  Richard 
and  Philip.  However  this  might  be,  it  is  certain 
that  the  former,  pretending  to  revive  an  old  quarrel, 
invaded  in  a  hostile  manner  the  territories  of  the 
count  of  Thoulouse  ;  and  that  Philip,  being  solicited 
to  assist  his  vassal,  entered  the  duchy  of  Berry,  part 
of  the  dominions  of  the  king  of  England,  reduced  the 
most  important  towns  and  fortresses  in  Auvergne, 
and  finally  led  his  troops  into  the  territory  of  Tou- 
raine.  Amidst  his  preparations  for  the  crusade, 
Henry  was  startled  by  the  news  of  this  fresh  aggres- 
sion of  the  French.  An  ambassador  whom  he  de- 
spatched to  Paris  received  for  answer,  that  Philip  had 
no  intention  of  disbanding  his  army  until  he  had 
reduced  the  whole  of  Berry  and  the  Norman  Vexin. 
This  announcement  at  once  determined  his  course. 
Henry  in  all  haste  levied  a  strong  army  of  English 
and  AVelch  auxiliaries,  and,  in  conjunction  with  Ri- 
chard, marched  into  France,  where  he  took  and  burned 
several  of  the  frontier  towns.  Animosity  was  now 
so  thoroughly  excited  on  either  side,  that,  had  the 
prolongation  of  the  contest  depended  solely  upon  the 
kings,  there  is  little  doubt  that  a  fierce  and  devas- 
tating war  would  have  raged  between  England  and 
France.  But  the  nobles  of  both  countries,  whose 
power  as  chieftains  was  altogether  independent  of 


40  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

their  kings,  thought  proper  to  interfere,  and  to  recal 
them  from  this  hasty  dispute,  to  the  remembrance  of 
the  oath  which  they  had  so  lately  taken  in  common  as 
crusaders.  At  the  first  conference,  Philip  insisted 
upon  retaining  his  recent  conquests,  and  the  negotia- 
tion was  broken  off  by  Henry  in  disgust ;  nor  would 
it  have  been  renewed,  had  not  the  earls  of  Flanders 
and  Blois  declared  their  conviction  of  the  unreasonable 
nature  of  Philip's  demands,  and  avowed  their  inten- 
tion of  abiding  by  their  vow,  never  to  bear  arms  against 
a  Christian  prince,  until  their  return  from  the  Holy 
Land.  This  announcement  from  the  most  powerful 
of  his  friends  made  Philip  hesitate  ;  and  another  con- 
ference was  appointed  at  Bon-Moulins,  at  which  it 
was  hoped  the  treaty  would  be  finally  adjusted. 

At  this  meeting,  Henry  proposed,  by  way  of  an 
amicable  arrangement,  that  the  conquests  on  either 
side  should  be  abandoned,  and  that  matters  should 
be  allowed  to  remain  in  the  same  situation  in  which 
they  stood  when  the  kings  accorded  together  to 
take  the  cross.  To  his  amazement,  the  first  person 
•who  objected  to  this  foundation  of  the  treaty  was 
Richard,  who  absolutely  refused  to  give  up  his  latter 
conquests,  without  some  equivalent.  Philip  also, 
instead  of  siding  with  Henry,  insisted  upon  other 
terms.  He  offered,  it  is  true,  to  abandon  the  towns 
he  had  taken,  but  on  these  conditions  only — that 
the  marriage  between  Richard  and  his  sister  Ade- 
lais  should  be  instantly  solemnized;  and  that  all 
the  subjects  of  Henry,  whether  in  England  or  in 
Normandy,  should  be  required  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  his  son.  Henry  refused  to  fulfil  either. 
His  obstinate  denial,  thus  publicly  announced,  to 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  41 

what  Richard  deemed  his  just  and  natural  rights, 
snapped  asunder  the  last  cord  which  held  the  king 
and  his  son  together.  Richard  again  formally  re- 
peated in  his  own  name  the  demands  urged  by  the 
king  of  France,  which  being  again  peremptorily 
denied,  he  stepped  forth  into  the  midst  of  the  assem- 
bled circle,  and,  eyeing  his  father  with  a  look  of 
indignation,  exclaimed,  "  I  now  see  that  to  be  true, 
which  I  formerly  deemed  to  be  impossible ;"  and, 
unbuckling  his  sword  and  presenting  it  to  Philip 
on  his  knee,  he  added,  "From  you,  sire,  I  crave 
the  protection  of  my  rights,  and  to  you  I  do  hom- 
age for  all  the  lands  in  France  held  of  you,  as  liege 
lord  and  suzerain."  Philip  instantly  accepted  of 
the  prince  as  his  vassal ;  and  the  assembly  broke  up 
in  confusion  and  dismay. 

If  called  upon  to  give  an  opinion  on  the  conduct 
of  the  actors  in  this  extraordinary  scene,  we  should 
be  inclined  to  say  that  Henry's  obstinacy,  in  refus- 
ing to  agree  to  the  nuptials  of  the  French  princess 
with  his  son,  was,  to  use  the  mildest  terms,  wanton 
and  unjustifiable  ;  that  his  resistance  to  this  and  the 
other  demand  of  Philip  was  sufficient  to  confirm 
Richard  in  his  belief  of  the  rumour  that  the  sovereign 
rule  was  intended  for  his  brother  John  to  his  own 
especial  prejudice;  and  that  acting  upon  this  convic- 
tion, he  was  perfectly  justified  in  throwing  himself 
upon  the  protection  of  the  king  of  France.  It  would 
seem  too  that  Philip,  considering  the  treatment  of  his 
sister,  and  the  reports  which  were  current  of  her 
liaison  with  Henry,  did  no  more  than  justice  to 
his  family  in  insisting  upon  a  speedy  marriage,  and 
in  accepting,  upon  the  refusal  of  this  demand,  the 


42  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

homage  of  the  injured  prince.  It  is  fortunately  sel- 
dom that  in  history  we  meet  with  cases  involving 
so  delicate  a  point,  but  whenever  such  are  obtruded 
upon  our  notice,  we  are  bound  to  side  with  the  party 
willing  to  observe  his  engagements,  and  to  give  our 
testimony  against  the  other,  whose  refusal  to  perform 
them  strengthens  the  suspicion  originated  by  rumour, 
of  a  breach  of  the  laws  of  nature,  morality,  and 
religion. 

All  thoughts  of  the  crusade  were  for  the  present 
abandoned  ;  and  indeed  the  aspect  of  affairs  was  such, 
that  even  the  warmest  advocates  for  the  expedition 
began  to  despair  of  its  possibility.  The  pope,  Cle- 
ment III.,  who  was  deeply  interested  in  the  cause, 
viewed  the  disturbed  and  hostile  state  of  northern 
Europe  with  anxiety  and  alarm.  His  remonstrances 
and  exhortations  had  the  effect  of  rousing  the  dor- 
mant spirit  of  the  Germans  and  Italians,  large  num- 
bers of  whom  were  actively  preparing  to  set  out  for 
the  Holy  Land  ;  but  without  the  co-operation  of  the 
kings  of  England  and  France,  who  were  in  fact  the 
two  pillars  of  the  enterprise,  success  was  more  than, 
doubtful ;  and  until  some  arrangement  of  these  do- 
mestic disputes  could  be  made,  it  was  obvious  that 
neither  monarch  would  stir  one  foot  from  his  own 
dominions.  The  truce  agreed  upon  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  last  conference  had  not  quite  ex- 
pired ;  and  though  Henry,  Philip,  and  Richard,  in 
their  own  territories,  were  making  active  prepara- 
tions for  war,  hostilities  had  not  yet  commenced. 
The  pontiff  resolved  to  profit  by  this  short  interval, 
and  despatched  a  cardinal-legate  to  mediate  between 
the  contending  parties.  This  time,  however,  it  ap- 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  43 

peared  that  the  questions  at  issue  could  not  be  set- 
tled otherwise  than  by  the  arbitration  of  the  sword  ; 
for  although  Henry  and  Philip  yielded  so  far  as  to 
submit  their  quarrel  to  the  judgment  of  the  legate  - 
cardinal  of  Anagni,  and  the  archbishops  of  Rheims, 
Rouen,  Bourges,  and  Canterbury,  Richard,  to  whom 
the  latter  prelate  was  sent  in  the  capacity  of  media- 
tor, stood  out  upon  the  justice  of  his  cause,  declaring 
that  no  reference  was  required,  seeing  that  even  his 
father  could  not  deny  his  title  to  those  articles,  the 
fulfilment  of  which  had  nevertheless  been  so  often 
and  so  ignominiously  evaded.  Public  opinion  also 
manifested  itself  on  the  side  of  Richard.  Many  of 
the  most  influential  nobles  of  Brittany,  Normandy, 
and  Anjou,  who  on  all  previous  occasions  had  taken 
the  part  of  Henry,  now  went  over  to  his  son  ;  for  the 
odium  of  rebellion  was  not  now  so  generally  cast 
upon  Richard,  as  that  of  tyranny  and  unnatural 
malignity  was  attached  to  the  conduct  of  the  king. 
Active  warfare  would  have  commenced  upon  the 
expiry  of  the  truce,  had  not  the  legate,  with  the 
greatest  perseverance,  urged  another  conference  be- 
tween the  kings,  which  neither  of  them  could  with 
any  appearance  of  decency  refuse.  At  La  Ferte 
Bernard,  then,  the  princes  met ;  and  Philip,  on  the 
part  of  himself  and  Richard,  stated  as  an  indispen- 
sable article  the  restitution  and  marriage  of  his  sister. 
If  this  was  agreed  to,  he  hinted  that  the  other  points 
at  issue  might  be  easily  arranged,  and  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  crusade  resumed.  One  more  stipula- 
tion, however,  he  thought  it  necessary  to  make,  viz. 
that,  as  Henry,  on  account  of  his  advanced  age  and 
increasing  infirmities,  was  to  be  held  excused  from 


44  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OF 

Ms  oath,  and  absolved  from  the  necessity  of  embark- 
ing for  Palestine,  John,  the  youngest  of  his  sons, 
should  accompany  his  brother  to  the  crusade.  This 
stipulation  was  obviously  meant  for  the  benefit  of 
Richard,  and  probably  was  suggested  by  him  ;  but 
Henry  chose  to  interpret  it  differently,  and  replied 
with  a  sneer,  that  if  his  eldest  son  had  been  foolish 
enough  to  take  the  cross  without  his  knowledge  or 
consent,  and  without  making  any  previous  arrange- 
ments for  contingencies  at  home,  he  saw  no  reason 
why  he  should  copy  his  imprudence,  and  leave  his 
dominions  open  to  foreign  invasion,  in  the  event  of 
his  death  during  the  absence  of  his  children.  "  But," 
added  Henry,  "  I  will  make  one  proposal,  by  adopt- 
ing which  all  our  differences  may  be  settled.  Let 
Adelais  be  wedded  to  John  instead  of  Richard,  and 
I  will  not  only  give  up  her  dower,  but  gift  them 
with  more  important  territories."  This  infamous 
suggestion,  so  contrary  to  all  principle,  so  outrage- 
ously unjust  towards  Richard,  and  so  injurious  to 
the  honour  of  the  princess,  was  met  by  Philip  with  a 
contemptuous  refusal ;  nor  is  it  easy  to  conceive  how 
Henry  could  have  entertained  so  preposterous  an  idea, 
knowing  as  he  well  did  the  proud  spirit  of  Philip, 
and  the  violent  passions  of  Richard.  It  in  fact 
could  be  construed  no  otherwise  than  as  a  declara- 
tion of  his  intention  to  set  aside  his  elder  son,  and 
invest  the  younger  with  the  privileges  of  heir  appa- 
rent, unless  we  regard  the  proposal  as  a  mere  trick 
to  delay  the  marriage  of  the  princess  ;  in  which  case 
we  must  come  to  the  obvious  conclusion,  that  Henry 
had  a  personal  interest  in  throwing  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  the  union  of  Adelais  with  his  son.  In  either 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  45 

view  his  conduct  was  highly  reprehensible,  and  cal- 
culated to  produce  the  very  worst  effects ;  nor  does 
it  appear  that  he  was  supported  on  this  occasion  by 
any  of  the  prelates  of  either  realm,  or  by  any  of  the 
nobility  who  were  usually  favourable  to  his  cause. 
The  cardinal-legate,  notwithstanding,  thought  fit  to 
maintain  the  argument  of  Henry,  and  urged  the  duty  of 
concession  upon  the  othpr  party,  with  rather  more  vehe- 
mence than  was  altogether  consistent  with  his  cha- 
racter as  mediator.  On  being  reminded  that  all 
concessions  must  necessarily  be  mutual,  and  that 
the  duty  was  also  incumbent  on  the  other  party,  the 
zeal  of  the  legate  increased.  Vituperation  began  at 
last  to  supersede  eloquence  in  his  discourse,  and  yet 
he  was  allowed  to  proceed  without  interruption, 
until  he  uttered  a  threat  of  laying  the  whole  domin- 
ions of  Philip  under  an  interdict.  "  I  fear  not  your 
interdict,"  replied  Philip,  u  nor  shall  I  heed  it  if  pro- 
nounced, seeing  that  it  is  not  founded  upon  any 
principles  of  equity.  What  right,  I  would  fain 
learn,  has  Rome  to  interfere  in  these  disputes,  least 
of  all  in  any  that  concern  the  honour  of  France  ? 
What  title  has  she  to  animadvert  upon  my  conduct, 
if  I  am  called  upon  to  exercise  the  duties  of  a  sove- 
reign ?  What  right  has  she  to  step  between  me  and 
my  vassals,  if  I  find  it  necessary  to  chastise  them  for 
disobedience  and  rebellion  ?  O,  my  lord,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  perceive  that  the  savour  of  the  English 
sterling  is  still  in  your  nostrils,  and  perverts  the  fine 
perception  of  a  judge  !"  As  for  Richard,  he  was  so 
indignant  at  the  insolence  of  the-  legate,  that  he 
clapped  his  hand  to  his  sword,  and  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  prevented  from  offering  violence 
to  the  terrified  priest. 


46  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

The  nature  of  this  conference  was  such  that  all 
ideas  of  negotiation  were  abandoned,  and  hostilities 
instantly  commenced.  The  county  of  Maine  was 
this  time  the  seat  of  war.  Philip  and  Richard  ad- 
vancing with  their  combined  forces  from  Xogent-le- 
Rotrou  in  Orleannois,  reduced  in  succession  La  Ferte 
Bernard,  Monfort,  Malestable,  Beaumont,  and  Bal- 
lon. Henry  threw  himself  i»to  Mans,  the  city  of 
his  birth,  which  he  expected  to  make  good  against 
his  enemies ;  but  they,  appearing  before  the  walls 
after  a  forced  march,  created  such  confusion,  that  the 
suburbs  were  accidentally  set  on  fire  by  Stephen  de 
Tours,  seneschal  of  Anjou,  and  the  conflagration  ex- 
tended to  the  town.  Henry  himself  had  great  difficulty 
in  escaping  to  Fresnoy,  whither  he  was  not  followed  by 
the  confederates,  who  marched  towards  Tours,  re- 
ducing every  place  of  strength  upon  the  road,  and  at 
last  by  escalade  took  possession  of  that  important 
city.  In  the  mean  time,  Ranulph  de  Glanville  was 
despatched  to  England  for  the  purpose  of  levying 
additions  to  the  royal  forces,  and  Geoffry,  the  natural 
son  of  Henry  by  Rosamond  de  Clifford,  whose  at- 
tachment to  his  father  was  unshaken,  and  who  filled 
the  dignified  office  of  chancellor,  was  actively  en- 
gaged for  the  same  purpose  in  Normandy. 

The  prelates  and  princes  whose  mediation  at  the 
conference  of  La  Ferte  Bernard  had  proved  ineffectual, 
came  to  the  determination  of  waiting  until  the  suc- 
cess of  one  party  or  another  should  give  them  an 
opportunity  of  again  proposing  terms  with  more 
likelihood  of  a  •  favourable  consideration.  They, 
therefore,  took  no  part  on  either  side  during  the 
continuance  of  the  contest,  but  kept  themselves  in 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  47 

readiness  to  renew  the  negotiation  as  soon  as  they 
could  with  propriety  interfere.  The  distress  of 
Henry  was  now  so  extreme,  that  for  very  shame 
they  felt  themselves  bound  to  step  forward  in  his 
behalf;  and  accordingly  the  count  of  Flanders,  the 
duke  of  Burgundy,  and  the  archbishop  of  Rheims, 
proceeded  to  Tours,  and  submitted  to  the  king  of 
France  and  Richard  the  terms  on  which,  as  it  ap- 
peared to  them,  an  advantageous  peace  might  be 
concluded.  These  being  remarkably  favourable  to 
the  confederates,  were  accepted  by  them;  and  Henry, 
finding  that  his  continental  subjects  were  daily  de- 
serting him,  and  that  the  success  of  Geoffry  in  raising 
the  Norman  levies  was  more  than  doubtful,  was 
forced,  with  a  swelling  heart,  to  yield  to  terms  which 
in  his  better  days  he  would  have  scorned  to  hold 
with  the  most  puissant  monarch  in  the  world. 

At  Azay  the  kings  met,  and  the  treaty  as  origin- 
ally proposed  was  ratified  by  all  parties.  The  heads 
of  it  were  as  follows.  Henry  agreed  to  renew  to 
Philip  the  homage,  which  at  the  commencement  of 
the  war  he  had  renounced ;  Adelais  was  to  be 
delivered  up  to  persons  whom  Richard  should  no- 
minate, and  the  nuptials  were  to  be  consummated 
immediately  upon  the  return  of  the  affianced  bride- 
groom from  the  Holy  Land ;  all  the  vassals  of 
Henry  were  to  take  the  oath  of  fealty  to  Richard 
before  his  departure ;  all  the  barons  and  others, 
holding  of  Henry,  who  had  taken  part  with  his  son 
were  to  receive  full  pardon  ;  twenty  thousand  marks 
of  silver  were  to  be  presently  paid  over  to  Philip ; 
and  Mans,  Tours,  and  the  castles  of  Trou,  and  le 
Loir,  or  in  the  option  of  Henry,  Gisors,  Pacy,  and 


48  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OF 

Nonaneourt,  were  to  be  held  by  the  confederates 
until  all  the  stipulations  of  the  treaty  were  fulfilled. 

Thus  was  Henry,  once  the  greatest  warrior  and 
most  powerful  prince  of  his  time,  after  a  career  re- 
markable for  the  number  and  the  extent  of  its 
conquests,  forced  to  succumb  to  the  rising  fortunes 
of  two  youths  whom  he  had  seen  in  their  cradles. 
Bitter  indeed  must  have  been  this  reverse  to  a  mind 
so  haughty  and  unyielding  as  his,  and  bitter  the 
necessity  which  compelled  him  to  sign  the  act  of  his 
own  degradation  before  the  assembled  chivalry  of 
England  and  of  France.  It  was  the  last  deed  of  this 
famous  monarch,  and  heaven  and  earth  were  wit- 
nesses. 

The  kings  met  on  horseback  in  the  plain  of  Azay, 
and  the  treaty  was  read  to  them  by  the  archbishop. 
The  day  was  sultry,  and  the  clouds  unusually  dark 
and  heavy — fit  canopy  for  a  king  consenting  to  his 
own  disgrace.  Henry  and  Philip  were  standing 
close  together,  and  the  former  had  just  commenced 
an  expostulation  against  some  of  the  proposed  articles, 
when  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning  blinded  them  for  a 
moment,  and  the  thunder  roared  above  their  heads 
with  a  long  and  terrific  peal.  It  appeared  that  a 
fireball  had  struck  the  earth  in  the  midst  of  the 
small  space  which  separated  the  kings.  Henry,  over- 
excited and  nervous,  trembled  so  violently,  that  had 
it  not  been  for  his  attendants  he  must  have  fallen 
from  his  horse.  In  the  outbreak  of  the  elements  he 
imagined  that  he  had  heard  the  voice  of  God  com- 
manding him  to  yield ;  and,  with  fear  and  precipita- 
tion, he  consented  to  every  article  of  the  treaty. 
One  only  stipulation  he  made,  which  was  this,  that 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  49 

since  he  had  granted  a  free  pardon  to  all  his  subjects 
who  had  taken  up  arms  against  him,  or  had  made  a 
separate  treaty  with  the  confederates,  he  might  at 
least  be  informed  of  their  names.  The  scroll  was 
delivered  to  him ;  and  the  first  name  he  saw  there 
inscribed  was  that  of  John,  his  youngest  and  best 
beloved  son. 

This  blow  was  alone  wanting  to  crush  the  broken 
spirit  of  the  king.  Richard's  defection  he  had  seen 
with  anger,  but  he  was  conscious  that  it  was  at  least 
partly  attributable  to  his  own  harshness  and  jea- 
lousy ;  other  sons  had  left  him,  but  that  was  in  the 
days  of  his  prosperity — John  had  turned  upon  him 
when  he  was  almost  without  a  friend.  This  com- 
bination of  misfortune  and  ingratitude  was  too  much 
for  his  frame,  already  weakened  by  disease.  He  was 
conveyed  in  a  litter  to  the  castle  of  Chinon,  where 
his  disorders  assumed  the  appearance  of  a  rapid  fever. 
He  fell  into  a  state  of  delirium,  during  which  he  was 
heard  to  invoke  the  curse  of  Heaven  on  his  dis- 
obedient and  rebellious  children.  The  chancellor 
Geoffry  heard  of  his  father's  illness,  and  hastened  to 
Chinon.  He  found  him  again  sensible,  but  so  weak- 
ened that  it  was  obvious  to  all  that  his  end  was 
rapidly  approaching.  Henry  received  his  natural 
son,  whose  conduct  shamed  the  legitimate,  with 
signs  of  sensible  joy ;  he  gave  him  the  ring  from 
his  finger;  and  expressed  a  wish  that  he  should  be 
promoted  to  the  archbishopric  of  York  or  the  see  of 
Winchester,  and  hoped  that  Richard  would  pardon 
his  fidelity  to  his  father  and  king.  The  chancellor, 
as  well  as  the  prelates  who  still  watched  beside  his 
deathbed,  prayed  him,  for  the  good  of  his  own  soul, 
E 


50  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

to  revoke  the  curses  he  had  called  down  upon  his 
sons,  and  not  to  suffer  his  anger  to  reach  beyond  the 
grave.  Henry,  however,  obstinately  refused  to  un- 
say his  malediction,  and,  becoming  gradually  weaker, 
requested  to  be  carried  into  the  church,  where,  hav- 
ing partaken  of  the  communion,  he  died  at  the  altar. 
Immediately  afterwards  the  prelates  and  barons 
departed — a  new  star  was  culminating  in  the  sky — 
a  new  king  demanded  their  homage.  None  were 
left  to  watch  the  royal  corpse  save  menial  attendants ; 
and  even  these,  as  soon  as  the  others  were  gone,  laid 
hands  on  every  valuable  in  the  place  and  departed. 

"  And  who  BO  poor  as  do  him  reverence  ?" 

In  this  condition  was  the  body  found  by  some  of 
the  returning  nobles,  and  conveyed  to  the  nunnery 
of  Fontevrault. 

Intelligence  of  the  king's  decease  was  instantly 
conveyed  to  Richard,  who  heard  it  with  much  sor- 
row, and  probably  not  without  contrition.  Although 
the  conduct  of  his  father  towards  him  had  been  such 
as  to  justify  many  of  the  steps  he  had  taken,  the 
mere  fact  of  such  rebellion,  even  though  forced  upon 
him,  was  a  terrible  and  appalling  thought.  He  too 
had  not  been  blameless,  for  timely  submission  per- 
haps might  have  healed  the  mutual  wound,  and 
restored  him  to  his  father's  confidence;  but  it  was  too 
late,  and  all  the  reparation  he  could  offer  was  to  la- 
ment the  errors  of  the  past.  Leaving  the  camp  of 
Philip,  he  hastened  to  Fontevrault,  and  assisted  at 
the  ceremony  of  the  interment,  after  which  he  re- 
ceived the  great  seal  from  the  hands  of  Geoffry,  and 
the  homage  of  the  barons  present. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  51 

Henry  II.  expired  on  the  sixth  day  of  July,  1189, 
in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of  his  age,  and  the  thirty- 
fifth  of  his  reign.  Subsequent  historians  have  differ- 
ed as  to  his  personal  character,  but  all  bear  witness  to 
the  beneficial  reforms  which  he  introduced,  and  the 
happy  effects  of  his  internal  policy  upon  England. 
Had  he  been  more  moderate  in  his  temper,  and  less 
suspicious  of  those  around  him — had  he  been  as  vir- 
tuous in  his  private  as  lie  was  just  in  his  public  capa- 
city, he  would  in  all  probability  have  known  nothing 
of  the  sorrows  which  embittered  his  existence,  and 
hurried  him  prematurely  to  the  grave.  His  history 
is  a  warning  to  princes,  that  greatness  in  the  king 
cannot  compensate  for  the  want  of  sterling  virtue  in 
the  man. 

Henry  left  behind  him  two  sons,  Richard  and 
John,  and  three  daughters,  by  his  queen  Eleanor. 
Of  these  the  eldest,  Matilda,  was  married  to  Henry 
the  Lion,  duke  of  Saxony  and  Bavaria,  whose  name 
is  so  conspicuous  in  the  annals  of  Germany,  though 
more  for  his  misfortunes  than  his  merits.  Eleanor, 
the  second,  was  married  to  Alphonso  king  of  Castile, 
and  Joan,  the  third,  to  William  king  of  Sicily.  By 
Rosamond  Clifford,  Henry  had  two  sons,  William 
surnamed  Longsword,  who  married  the  heiress  and 
succeeded  to  the  title  of  Salisbury,  and  Geoffry,  first 
chancellor,  and  afterwards  archbishop  of  York.  It 
is  almost  unnecessary  to  add  that  the  story  of  Rosa- 
mond's death  by  means  of  poison  administered  by 
queen  Eleanor  is  a  mere  fiction,  and  unsupported  by 
any  credible  testimony. 


52  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 


CHAPTER  III. 

Richard's  Policy  on  his  Accession  to  the  Throne — Amicable  Ad- 
justment with  Philip — Eleanor  appointed  Regent — Order  of 
Richard's  Coronation — Disturbance  caused  by  the  Intrusion  of 
the  Jews — Outrages  against  that  People  in  different  Parts  of 
England,  and  horrible  Massacre  at  York — Richard's  Prepara- 
tions for  the  Crusade — Anecdote  of  the  Bishop  of  Durham — 
Disposal  of  the  Crown-Lands  and  public  Offices — Homage  of 
the  King  of  Scotland  remitted — Embassy  from  Philip— Wil- 
liam Longchamp,  Bishop  of  Ely,  appointed  Chancellor  and 
Justiciary — Richard  crosses  over  to  France — Final  Arrange- 
ments before  his  Departure — Great  Meeting  at  Vezelai — Richard 
arrives  at  Marseilles — His  personal  Appearance,  Temper,  and 
Reputation. 

THE  accession  of  Richard  to  the  throne  of  England 
was  greeted  by  his  subjects  with  various  feelings. 
The  unruly  and  the  turbulent,  judging  of  his  character 
from  the  mere  circumstance  of  his  opposition  to  his  fa- 
ther's will,  and  from  the  military  disposition  which  the 
wars  in  Guienne  and  Normandy  had  developed,  confi- 
dently expected  to  reap  a  rich  harvest  under  the  auspices 
of  a  monarch  who  seemed  little  burdened  with  scruples, 
and  less  inclined  even  than  his  father  to  pay  that 
homage  to  the  clergy  which  the  church  of  Rome  in 
those  days  was  wont  most  scrupulously  to  exact. 
The  partisans  of  Henry,  on  the  other  hand,  expected 
nothing  but  wrong  and  outrage  from  a  prince  who 
had  gone  so  far  from  the  path  of  duty  as  to  league 
with  a  foreign  power  against  their  patron  and  his 
natural  guardian.  Fidelity  to  the  father,  they 
thought,  must  be  construed  into  treason  against  the 
son;  neither  could  they  expect  that,  under  the  circum- 
stances, the  honest  plea  of  adherence  to  the  interests 
of  their  country,  which  was  all  they  could  offer, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  53 

would  be  either  admitted  or  approved.  Their  fears 
were  entirely  groundless.  Richard  knew  well  how 
to  appreciate  the  worth  of  loyalty,  and  was  not  slow 
in  perceiving  that  those  who,  from  a  high  motive,  had 
supported  the  cause  of  the  former  monarch,  would 
be  the  most  likely  to  rally  round  the  standard  of  his 
legitimate  successor.  It  was  his  first  care,  therefore, 
to  confirm  in  their  offices  and  places  of  trust  all  the 
retainers  of  the  late  king.  Geoffry,  the  chancellor, 
was  nominated  by  him,  according  to  his  father's 
wish,  archbishop  of  York.  His  brother  John  was 
not  only  confirmed  in  his  English  possessions,  but  was 
gifted  with  the  earldom  of  Mortaigne :  in  short,  no 
one  who  had  been  favoured  by  Henry  had  reason  to 
complain  of  the  partiality  or  injustice  of  Richard. 
Stephen  de  Tours,  alone,  the  seneschal  of  Anjou,  who 
was  probably  suspected  of  malversation,  was  treated 
with  some  severity ;  for  he  was  thrown  into 
prison,  until  he  consented  not  only  to  deliver  up  the 
castles  and  treasures  which  he  had  held  from  Henry, 
but  to  pay  a  considerable  ransom  for  his  own  per- 
sonal liberty.  Even  in  this  case,  Richard's  severity 
was  tempered  with  mercy,  since,  after  his  conditions 
were  complied  with,  he  continued  Stephen  in  his 
former  place  of  trust.  At  Rouen,  in  the  presence  of 
the  continental  nobility,  he  was  girt  with  the  ducal 
sword  of  Normandy,  and  received  the  homage  of  his 
vassals.  Immediately  afterwards  he  held  a  confer- 
ence with  king  Philip,  whereat  the  French  monarch 
showed  some  liberality  and  confidence  in  his  royal 
brother,  by  waiving  his  claim  for  the  castle  of  Gi- 
sors,  conceded  by  Henry  at  the  meeting  of  Azay,  in 
consideration  of  the  payment  of  four  additional  thou- 


54  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES'  OF 

sand  marks,  and  by  restoring  to  Richard  all  the  other 
possessions  which  he  had  taken  from  his  father. 

Whilst  occupied  with  these  continental  arrange- 
ments, Richard  did  not  forget  the  situation  of  his 
mother,  whom  he  dearly  loved,  and  who,  with  the 
exception  of  one  short  interval,  had  been  kept  a 
close  prisoner  ever  since  the  revolt  of  her  sons.  With 
the  order  for  her  release  was  transmitted  a  com- 
mission investing  her  with  the  dignity  of  regent,  so 
that  Eleanor  no  sooner  issued  from  her  confinement, 
than  she  took  upon  herself  the  highest  dignity  of  the 
realm.  The  prisons  at  the  time  of  Henry's  death 
were  remarkably  full,  partly  no  doubt  with  offenders 
against  the  law,  but  partly  also  with  those  whose 
crimes  were  more  political,  and  therefore  more  leni- 
ently to  be  judged  by  a  king  succeeding  under  such 
circumstances  as  Richard.  Eleanor  therefore  pro- 
claimed a  universal  amnesty;  ordered  the  doors  of  all 
the  prisons  to  be  opened,  and  the  captives  to  be  set 
at  liberty;  and  moreover,  ordained  that  every  freeman 
in  the  realm  should  take  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  her- 
self and  to  the  reigning  monarch,  which  ordinance, 
according  to  the  historians  of  the  time,  was  taken 
universally,  and  almost  without  one  dissentient  voice. 
This  general  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  people  is  a 
strong  proof  of  the  favour  with  which  they  regarded 
the  cause  of  Richard,  not  only  in  his  new  capacity 
as  king,  but  in  the  latter  struggle,  which  must  have 
been  so  fresh  in  the  memory  of  all,  that,  had  they 
disapproved  of  his  conduct,  their  homage  would  not 
have  been  by  any  means  so  readily  conceded. 

Having  thus  settled  his  affairs  in  Normandy 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all,  Richard  crossed  over  to 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  55 

England  for  the  purpose  of  holding  the  ceremony  of 
coronation,  and  of  placing  himself  upon  an  amicable 
footing  with  his  nobles.  His  first  care  was  to  con- 
firm the  act  of  amnesty  passed  by  his  mother,  Elea- 
nor; his  next  was  to  restore  to  the  barons  those 
estates  and  castles  which  had  been  declared  by  Henry 
forfeited,  on  account  of  the  adherence  of  their  owners 
to  the  cause  of  his  son.  The  earl  of  Leicester  was 
courteously  and  kindly  received  by  the  new  king. 
John,  in  addition  to  the  earldom  of  Gloucester,  re- 
ceived new  and  extensive  grants  of  the  crown-lands. 
He  was  now  the  sole  surviving  brother  of  Richard  ; 
and,  doubtless,  these  marks  of  the  royal  favour  were 
heaped  upon  him  no  less  from  affection  than  from 
policy.  Domestic  strife  had  caused  already  so  much 
woe  and  distress  in  the  family,  that  Richard  hoped 
the  remembrance  of  the  past  would  act  as  a  salutary 
check  in  restraining  the  ambition  of  his  brother;  and, 
to  remove  the  slightest  cause  of  complaint,  he  placed 
him  in  a  more  opulent  situation  than  was  ever  occu- 
pied by  a  prince  of  the  royal  blood. 

The  third  of  September,  1189,  was  appointed  for 
Richard's  coronation ;  and  on  no  previous  occasion 
was  it  celebrated  with  more  pomp  and  magnificence. 
As  the  particulars  of  this  august  ceremony  have  at 
no  earlier  period  been  given  by  contemporary  histo- 
rians, it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the  reader  to 
know  how  it  was  conducted  in  this  instance,  and  we 
have,  in  that  hope,  selected  the  account  of  one  who 
was  probably  an  eye-witness  of  the  scene.  In  the 
morning,  the  bishops,  abbots,  and  principal  clergy, 
went  in  procession  to  the  palace,  their  attendants 
bearing  the  cross  before  them,  and  carrying  censers. 


56  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

The  king  received  them  at  the  door  of  his  private 
chambers;  and,  all  the  arrangements  having  been  com- 
pleted, the  procession  moved  on  towards  Westminster 
abbey  (the  path  from  the  palace  to  the  altar  being 
covered  with  broad-cloth)  in  the  following  order. 
First  walked  the  clergy  carrying  the  cross,  the  cen- 
sers, and  vessels  of  holy  water;  after  them  came 
the  priors,  abbots,  and  bishops,  in  the  midst  of  whom 
were  four  barons  carrying  huge  candlesticks  of  gold; 
then  came  Godfrey  de  Lucy,  with  the  cap  of  state, 
and  John  de  Mareschall,  with  the  golden  spurs ;  next 
"William  earl  of  Pembroke,  with  the  sceptre,  and 
William  earl  of  Salisbury,  with  the  rod  and  dove ; 
after  these  came  David  earl  of  Huntingdon,  brother 
to  the  king  of  Scotland,  prince  John,  and  Robert  earl 
of  Leicester,  bearing  three  swords,  the  scabbards  of 
which  were  curiously  inlaid  with  gold ;  they  were 
followed  by  six  earls  and  six  barons,  carrying  a  cas- 
ket containing  the  other  royal  insignia  and  robes  of 
state;  then  came  William  de  Mandeville  earl  of 
Albemarle,  bearing  the  royal  crown  before  Richard, 
who  walked  between  the  bishops  of  Durham  and 
Bath,  while  four  barons,  two  on  each  side,  bore  on 
the  points  of  their  lances  a  silken  canopy  above  him. 
In  this  order,  and  followed  by  an  immense  crowd, 
the  procession  entered  the  abbey  and  proceeded  to 
the  altar,  where  Baldwin,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
was  stationed.  Kneeling  down  before  the  altar,  Richard 
swore  upon  the  Evangelists  and  the  most  esteem- 
ed relics,  to  maintain  his  fidelity  to  God  and  observe 
the  ordinances  of  the  holy  church ;  to  rule  his  people 
with  justice  and  equity  ;  to  abolish  all  evil  laws  and 
customs,  and  to  establish  none  others  but  such  as 


RICHARD    TBE    FIRST.  57 

should  tend  to  the  general  welfare.  After  this  oath 
he  was  divested  of  his  mantle  and  upper  garment ; 
sandals  worked  with  gold  were  placed  upon  his  feet ; 
and  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  pouring  the  conse- 
crated oil  upon  his  head,  breast,  and  arms,  anointed  • 
him  as  king.  The  cap  of  state,  carried  by  Godfrey 
de  Lucy,  was  then  placed  upon  his  head,  and  the 
royal  robes  assumed,  after  which  he  received  the 
sword  of  justice,  and  two  earls  kneeling  down  buc- 
kled on  the  spurs.  Richard  was  now  led  to  the  altar 
on  which  the  crown  was  placed,  and  received  an  ad- 
monition from  the  archbishop  not  to  lay  hands  upon 
it,  unless  he  were  prepared  with  the  utmost  strictness 
and  rigour  to  observe  every  article  of  the  oath  for- 
merly administered.  To  this  the  king  replied  that, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  without  fraud  or  reservation,  he 
would  observe  all  that  he  had  sworn  ;  and  thereupon 
he  lifted  the  crown  from  the  altar  and  delivered  it  to 
the  archbishop,  who  placed  it  on  his  head.  The 
sceptre  and  rod  were  then  given  to  the  king,  who 
was  led  from  the  altar,  and  took  his  seat  upon  the 
throne.  Mass  was  then  performed,  and  at  the  offer- 
tory the  king  was  reconducted  to  the  altar,  on  which 
he  placed  a  mark  of  the  purest  gold.  After  mass, 
the  procession  returned  in  the  same  order  as  before*. 
After  the  ceremony,  a  splendid  banquet  was  held 
in  the  choir  of  the  abbey,  at  which  all  the  nobility 
were  present.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  festivi- 
ties of  the  day  were  interrupted  by  a  brawl,  which 
speedily  increased  into  a  riot,  and  produced  disturb- 
ance and  bloodshed  not  only  in  London,  but  in 
other  of  the  principal  cities  and  towns  throughout 

*  Hoveden.     Matthew  Paris. 


58  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

the  realm.  Every  one  is  aware  of  the  hatred  which 
during  the  middle  ages  was  borne  by  the  people, 
not  of  England  alone,  but  of  all  the  European  states, 
towards  the  Jews.  This  savage  and  unnatural  feel- 
ing was  fostered  and  encouraged  by  the  priests, 
who  considered  the  Hebrew  nation  as  labouring  un- 
der the  curse  of  God,  and  therefore  liable  to  be 
persecuted  by  his  servants.  Even  the  Saracens 
were  more  respected  by  the  Christian  church  than 
were  the  seed  of  Abraham.  Baptism  could  wash 
away  the  sins  of  the  first,  but  what  could  remove  the 
taint  which  poisoned  the  blood  of  the  latter  ?  Yet, 
though  thus  despised  and  oppressed,  the  Jews  had 
even  then,  by  their  acuteness  and  industry,  established 
themselves  extensively  in  the  country,  and  prospered 
so  well  that  many  a  proud  noble  and  franklin  were 
in  their  danger ;  nay,  being  the  sole  bankers  of  the 
time,  even  the  state  was  compelled  to  grant  them 
immunities  and  a  precarious  protection,  in  return  for 
the  advances  which  its  exigencies  often  required. 
"With  the  commons,  who  derived  their  ideas  on  the 
subject  from  their  spiritual  teachers,  the  Jews  were 
held  in  abhorrence.  Men  shrunk  from  a  Hebrew 
when  he  passed  them  on  the  road  as  though  the  mere 
touch  of  his  garment  were  contamination. 

"  They  called  him  misbeliever — cut-throat,  dog, 
And  spat  upon  his  Jewish  gaberdine." 

On  the  occasion  of  Richard's  coronation,  the  Jews 
were  expressly  forbid,  by  proclamation,  to  approach 
the  abbey,  lest  their  presence  should  take  away  from 
the  holiness  of  that  most  august  ceremony.  After  it 
was  ended,  the  Jews  probably  thought  that  the  re- 
striction was  removed,  and  being  anxious  to  ingra- 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  59 

tiate  themselves  with  the  new  sovereign,  a  deputation 
of  their  elders  entered  the  banquet  hall,  to  pay  him 
their  homage,  and  to  lay  some  costly  presents  at  his 
feet.  This  intrusion  was  instantly  resented  by  the 
clergy  and  their  retainers,  who  rose  up  in  a  body, 
and  drove  the  Hebrews  from  the  hall,  loading  them 
with  blows  and  imprecations.  The  multitude  with- 
out, taking  the  cue  from  the  priests,  fell  upon  them 
as  they  came  out,  and  inflicted  such  gross  injury 
that  several  died  in  consequence.  This  outrage  was 
followed  by  a  worse.  The  mob  of  London,  hearing 
what  was  done  at  Westminster  under  the  sanction 
of  the  clergy,  rushed  to  arms.  Every  Jew  whom 
they  could  lay  hands  upon  was  beaten  or  slain ; 
their  houses  were  broken  open,  pillaged,  and  set  on 
fire.  As  soon  as  Richard  was  made  acquainted  with 
the  particulars  of  this  barbarous  riot,  he  despatched 
the  justiciary  with  an  armed  force  to  disperse  the 
rioters,  and  caused  three  of  the  ringleaders  to  be 
hanged,  more,  as  Matthew  Paris  tells  us,  on  account 
of  their  having,  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult,  pillaged 
and  burned  the  houses  of  Christians,  than  for  any 
injury  they  had  inflicted  on  the  proscribed  and  friend- 
less Jews.  But  no  example  could  stop  the  mischief 
thus  calamitously  begun.  The  spirit  of  fanaticism 
and  the  appetite  for  plunder  was  kindled  in  the 
hearts  of  the  rabble  everywhere,  when  they  heard 
of  the  tragedy  at  London.  In  Lynn,  Stamford, 
Norwich,  Lincoln,  and  many  other  places,  the  Jews 
were  maltreated,  plundered,  and  slain;  butthecruel- 
est  persecution  of  all  awaited  those  who  dwelt  in 
York. 

Two  wealthy  merchants  from  that  city,  Benedict 


60  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

and  Jocenus,  were  amongst  the  number  of  those  de- 
puted to  wait  upon  Richard  at  the  banquet,  and 
were  handed  over  like  the  rest  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  populace.  Benedict,  under  the  fear  of  instant 
and  violent  death,  exclaimed  that  he  abjured  his 
faith  and  was  willing  to  become  a  Christian.  On 

O 

these  conditions  he  was  saved,  but  being  next  day 
brought  before  the  bishops,  he  refused  to  be  baptised, 
alleging  that  he  was  still  a  Jew  at  heart,  and  had 
only  made  profession  of  a  change  when  he  saw  his 
life  in  jeopardy.  This  man  was  shortly  afterwards 
murdered  at  Northampton ;  but  his  partner  Jocenus 
succeeded  in  escaping  from  the  hands  of  the  banditti 
and  brought  the  news  of  the  alarming  catastrophe  to 
his  brethren  at  York.  More  Jews  had  their  resi- 
dence there  than  in  any  other  city  of  the  kingdom, 
London  alone  excepted ;  and  the  wealth  they  had 
amassed  was  prodigious.  They  were  much  in  the 
habit  of  trafficking  with  the  neighbouring  proprietors, 
and  had  flattered  themselves  that  on  any  occasion  of 
popular  outbreak  they  were  sure  of  influential  pro- 
tection— little  dreaming  that  the  men  they  had  so 
often  obliged  would  be  the  first  to  heap  ruin  on  their 
heads.  Yet  so  it  was.  At  York  the  attack  upon 
the  Jews  was  not  a  mere  movement  of  popular  im- 
pulse, but  a  regularly  planned  conspiracy,  in  which 
men  whose  station  at  least  ought  to  have  restrain- 
ed them  from  joining  in  such  excesses,  were  deeply 
implicated ;  and  one  as  terrible  in  its  catastrophe 
as  any  which  the  pages  of  history  can  show.  A 
dark  and  tempestuous  season  was  chosen  for  this 
diabolical  purpose;  and  at  midnight  the  citizens  of 
York  were  roused  from  their  rest,  by  the  cry  that 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  61 

the   city   was  on  fire.     And  in  truth   flames  were 
bursting  out  in  various  quarters ;    the  townspeople 
were  busied  with  extinguishing  them ;  and  thus  every 
obstruction  was  removed  from  the  path  of  the  con- 
spirators.   The  house  of  Benedict,  the  murdered  Jew, 
was  the  present  object  of  their  attack.    It  was  known 
to  contain  property  to  a  large  amount;  and  the  pre- 
sent state  of  the  family,  bereaved  of  their  master, 
favoured  the  attack.     The  doors  were  burst  open — 
every  individual  of  the  household,  man,  woman,  and 
child,  was  put  to  death  without  mercy, — the  trea- 
sures were  packed  up  with  the  greatest  expedition, 
and  after  having  removed  every  article  of  value,  the 
murderers  set  fire  to  the  house,  and  decamped  un- 
molested with   their  booty.      This  awful  example 
showed  the  Jews  how  little  they  could  trust  to  the 
faith  of  their  so-called  protectors.     Their  situation 
was  desperate  in  the  extreme,  for  the  robbers,  having 
had  tangible  proof  of  the  riches  contained  within  the 
walls  of  one  Hebrew  dwelling,  were  not  likely  to 
leave  the  rest  unvisited  ;  so,  with  the  consent  of  the 
governor,  the  majority  removed  with  their  wives  and 
children,  and  the  greater  part  of  their  property,  to 
the  castle,  which  was  of  strength  sufficient  to  repel 
any  attack  from  without.     It  shortly  appeared  that 
these   suspicions  were  well  founded;  for,  a  few  days 
afterwards,  the  same  banditti  returned,  but  much 
more  openly  than  before,  and,  being  reinforced  by  some 
of  the  town  rabble,  marched  to  the  house  of  Jocenus, 
where,  as  it   was  a  place  of  considerable  strength, 
some  of  the  Jews,  who  did  not  judge  it  necessary  to 
retire  to  the  castle,  had  taken  up  their  abode.     The 
atrocities  of  the  former  night   were  then  reacted, 


62  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

with  circumstances  of  even  greater  horror;  and  on  the 
following  day  all  restraint  was  thrown  off  by  the 
people,  all  law  abandoned,  all  humanity  renounced, 
and  every  street  throughout  the  city  of  York  be- 
came a  scene  of  rape,  robbery,  and  bloodshed.  The 
only  terms  offered  to  the  unhappy  Jews  were  death 
or  baptism;  even  the  latter  alternative  did  not  save 
their  property.  Very  few  of  them  recanted,  and 
all  the  others  were,  murdered  in  cold  blood  before  the 
eyes  of  their  distracted  brethren  in  the  castle. 

These  latter  began  to  fear  for  their  own  safety, 
and  to  suspect  the  fidelity  of  the  governor.  The 
temptation  indeed  was  large,  for  they  had  brought 
with  them  immense  treasures,  and  experience  had 
taught  them  that  the  cupidity  of  a  Christian  was 
often  stronger  than  his  promise.  They  resolved, 
therefore,  to  take  measures  for  themselves,  and  ac- 
cordingly one  day,  when  the  governor  was  absent  in 
the  city  on  some  business,  they  disarmed  the  senti- 
nels, secured  the  gates,  and  refused  him  admission. 
The  consequence  of  this  ill-advised  step  was,  that 
the  governor  applied  instantly  to  the  sheriff  of  the 
district,  who  pronounced  this  act  of  the  Jews  to  be 
leze-majesty,  and  an  insult  to  the  king's  authority. 
A  general  attack  upon  the  castle  was  ordered.  Per- 
sons of  all  ranks,  from  the  country  as  well  as  from 
the  town,  flocked  together,  excited  by  the  hopes  of 
booty ;  the  zeal  of  the  multitude  became  uncontrol- 
lable; and,  although  the  sheriff  presently  repented  of 
the  steps  which  he  had  so  rashly  taken,  and  revoked 
his  previous  order,  the  mob  were  now  entirely  be- 
yond his  authority,  and  refused  to  disperse  until  the 
castle  was  taken,  and  the  besieged  delivered  into 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  63 

their  hands.  In  consequence  the  assault  commenced, 
and  lasted  for  several  days,  for  the  Jews  defended 
themselves  with  obstinate  desperation.  Still,  how- 
ever, the  rage  of  the  people  increased,  nor  were  there 
wanting  men  of  holy  calling  to  hound  them  on. 
Many  friars  took  an  active  part  in  the  proceedings  ; 
and,  according  to  Hemingford,  there  was  a  hermit 
present,  whose  hloody  denunciations  of  death  to  the 
enemies  of  God  excited  the  people  almost  to  mad- 
ness. This  fanatic,  however,  met  with  his  reward, 
for,  venturing  to  approach  too  near,  he  was  killed  by 
a  stone  from  the  walls.  At  last,  the  Jews,  finding 
they  could  hold  out  no  longer,  took  council  among 
themselves  what  was  best  to  be  done.  A  rabbi,  who 
was  held  in  great  repute  among  them  for  his  learn- 
ing and  knowledge  of  the  law,  advised  suicide  as  a 
last  resource,  declaring  that  it  was  far  better  they 
should  perish  by  their  own  hands,  than  be  put  to  a 
slow  and  lingering  death,  by  their  brutal  enemies. 
Many  of  the  Jews  acceded  to  this  proposition,  but 
others  refused,  saying  they  would  rather  trust  to 
the  mercy  of  the  besiegers.  These  having  left  the 
assembly,  the  work  of  destruction  began ;  Jocenus 
and  his  friends  slew  their  wives  and  children,  and 
then  put  an  end  to  their  own  lives,  having  first 
burned  such  of  their  treasures  as  were  consumable, 
and  buried  the  rest.  An  attempt  also  was  made  to 
set  fire  to  the  castle,  but  this  was  vehemently  resist- 
ed by  the  remainder,  who  next  morning  appeared  upon 
the  walls,  stretching  out  their  hands  with  the  most 
humble  supplications,  and  fervently  entreating  that 
their  lives  at  least  might  be  spared.  This  was  pro- 
mised ;  but  no  sooner  were  the  gates  opened  than 


64  THE   LIFE   AND  TIMES   OF 

every  surviving  Jew  was  dragged  forth  and  massa" 
cred  in  the  most  barharous  manner*.  Such  was  the 
miserable  fate  of  the  Jews  of  York,  which,  as  the 
classical  reader  will  remark,  resembles  in  many 
points  the  history  of  Virius  and  the  Capuans  as  re- 
lated by  Livy.  Such  parallels,  it  is  true,  may  be  often 
drawn  between  events  recorded  in  ancient  and  mo- 
dern times  :  would  that  the  balance  of  humanity 
lay  oftener  on  the  Christian  side  ! 

Richard  was  terribly  incensed  at  these  inhuman 
deeds  ;  in  fact,  his  honour  was  thereby  compromised, 
as  he  had  promised  peace  and  security  to  the  Jews. 
The  bishop  of  Ely  was  instantly  despatched  to  York, 
and  commenced  a  rigorous  inquiry  ;  but  the  princi- 
pal ringleaders  had  fled  to  Scotland  :  and,  beyond  sus- 
pending the  governor  and  sheriff  from  their  offices, 
and  taking  many  of  the  principal  inhabitants  bound 
under  heavy  penalties  to  answer  for  the  late  outrages 
to  the  king,  and  in  addition  levying  a  pecuniary  mulct, 
his  expedition  cannot  be  said  to  have  answered  the 
ends  of  justice.  > 

Richard  now  commenced  in  good  earnest  his  pre- 
parations for  the  crusade ;  an  expedition  which  had 
always  lain  near  his  heart,  and  which  he  now  con- 
sidered himself  bound  to  accomplish,  by  the  double 
tie  of  religion  and  glory.  It  is  difficult  for  us,  the 
children  of  an  age  so  far  removed  from  that  of 
the  crusades,  to  appreciate  the  motives  —  we  say, 
it  is  difficult  for  us  to  comprehend  the  spirit, 
amounting  almost  to  a  mania — which  drove  the 
great  majority  of  the  potentates  of  Europe  from 
the  calm  enjoyment  of  their  own  possessions,  and  the 
*  Hemingford. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  65 

moral  and  intellectual  improvement  of  their  subjects, 
to  squander  their  blood 'and  treasure  on  the  sterile 
wastes  of  Syria.  Chivalry  alone,  or  the  thirst  for 
military  glory,  would  not  have  urged  them  so  far, 
nor  were  there  any  solid  temporal  advantages  to 
tempt  the  cupidity  of  monarch s,  whatever  induce- 
ment there  might  have  been  to  a  poor  and  courageous 
knight.  It  is  to  religion  we  must  look  for  a  solution 
of  the  problem; — religion, trammelled  with  all  thein- 
cumbrances  of  superstition,  and  struggling  towards 
an  imaginary  goal,  yet  still  retaining  evidences  of  its 
pristine  strength,  and  exhibiting  in  the  persons  of  the 
crusaders  traces  of  that  pre-eminent  faith  which  sup- 
ported the  early  martyrs  on  the  cross  and  in  the  fire. 
Towards  Judea,  the  land  of  the  redemption,  Christian 
Europe  bent  with  yearning,  and  her  lamentation  was 
raised  for  fallen  Jerusalem,  like  the  wailing  of  a  child 
over  the  tomb  of  its  mother. 

When  so  many  other  princes  had  obeyed  the  call 
of  the  church,  and  repaired  to  Palestine,  it  would 
have  been  quite  inconsistent  with  his  character  and 
profession,  had  Richard  tarried  at  home.  During 
the  last  fifty  years,  war  had  been  frequently  pro- 
claimed through  different  states  of  Europe,  battles 
had  been  fought,  and  provinces  conquered  and 
recovered,  but  these  events,  except  in  the  bosoms  of 
the  interested  actors,  created  little  sensation.  No 
general  spirit  was  roused,  no  lasting  glory  was  to  be 
obtained  by  such  partial  contests.  All  dwindled  away 
into  insignificance  before  the  aspect  of  the  dubious 
strife  maintained  by  the  Latins  and  Saracens  in  the 
plains  of  Palestine  ;  and  the  simple  soldier  of  Christ, 
who  returned  home  with  no  other  trophy  than  his 


66  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

wounds,  was  held  in  more  honour  than  the  man  who 
had  wrested  a  province  from  his  neighbour. 

It  was  intended  by  the  kings  of  France  and 
England,  that  the  present  crusade  should  be  more 
extensive  than  either  of  the  former ;  and  indeed  the 
power  and  talent  of  Saladin,  with  whom  they  had  to 
deal,  made  this  indispensable.  Their  preparations, 
therefore,  were  commensurate  with  the  importance 
of  the  undertaking.  All  able  volunteers  for  the  cause 
were  accepted,  and  the  Saladin  tithe  rigorously  levied 
throughout  the  kingdom.  Richard  found  in  his 
father's  treasury  about  a  hundred  thousand  marks;  but 
this  sum  was  by  no  means  adequate  to  the  demand, 
and  he  resorted  without  scruple  to  other  means  of 
obtaining  money.  To  Hugh  de  Pusey,  bishop  of 
Durham,  he  sold  the  temporalities  of  his  see,  the  life- 
rent  of  the  earldom  of  Northumberland,  and  the 
honour  of  Sudberg  for  ever.  "  Am  I  not,"  said  the 
king,  "  a  cunning  alchemist,  thus  to  transmute  an  old 
bishop  into  a  fire-new  earl  ? "  The  same  prelate  pur- 
chased from  the  kin<j,  for  a  thousand  silver  marks, 

O*  ' 

the  office  of  chief  justiciary,  and  at  the  same  time 
received  permission  to  remain  in  England,  contrary 
to  the  vow  he  had  taken  of  joining  the  crusade.  This 
conduct  of  the  bishop  gave  much  offence  to  the 
church  at  large,  as  the  office  of  justiciary  was  incon- 
sistent with  the  episcopal  functions,  and  the  purchase 
of  a  secular  title  was  held  to  savour  too  much  of  the 
vanities  of  the  world.  The  following  anecdote  of 

O 

this  prelate  is  related  by  Matthew  Paris.  It  seems 
that,  in  his  youth,  Pusey  had  consulted  a  hermit  of 
the  name  of  Godrick,  who,  besides  enjoying  the 
reputation  of  superior  sanctity,  was  supposed  to  be 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  67 

endowed  with  the  gift  of  prophecy.  "  Your  future 
lot,  and  the  span  of  your  days,"  said  the  hermit,  "  are 
known  to  God  and  the  holy  apostles,  and  not  to  me, 
who  am  but  a  miserable  sinner,  striving  to  expiate 
my  own  faults  by  tears  and  penitence ;  but  this  much 
of  your  fortune  I  can  read,  that  for  seven  years  pre- 
ceding your  decease,  you  will  be  afflicted  with  a 
grievous  blindness."  This  prediction  caused  the 
bishop  no  small  uneasiness,  as  not  only  the  blessing 
of  sight,  but  his  life,  seemed  to  depend  upon  the  pre- 
servation of  his  eyes.  Physician  after  physician  was 
consulted  on  the  subject,  years  rolled  on,  yet  his 
vision  seemed  unimpaired.  At  last,  seven  years  after 
he  became  justiciary,  a  dangerous  malady  stretched 
de  Pusey  on  the  bed  of  sickness.  The  symptoms 
became  every  hour  more  alarming,  until  his  friends 
thought  themselves  obliged  to  warn  him  of  his 
danger,  and  offered  to  administer  the  sacrament. 
"Then"  faltered  the  bishop  in  despair,  "  Godrick 
the  hermit  lied,  when  he  prophesied  I  should  be 
blind  for  seven  years."  "  Nay,"  said  another  prelate 
who  stood  beside  him,"  Godrick  lied  not,  for  hast  thou 
not  been  blind  in  preferring  temporal  to  spiritual 
honour,  an  earldom  and  thy  secular  office,  to  the 
service  of  Christ,  and  the  cure  of  souls  entrusted  to 
thy  charge  ? — Yea,  so  much  the  truer  was  his  pro- 
phecy, inasmuch  as  the  blindness  of  the  soul  is  more 
deplorable  than  that  of  the  body." 

In  the  same  manner  Richard  obtained  large  sums 
by  disposing  of  the  offices  of  sheriffs,  keepers  of  the 
royal  forests,  and  many  other  dignities  to  the  highest 
bidders.  Even  the  manors  of  the  crown  were  sold 
to  furnish  out  the  crusade.  In  short,  Richard's  con- 
F  2 


68  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

duct  was  such  as  to  warrant  the  belief  that  he  never 
intended  to  return  from  Palestine ;  and  in  reply  to 
the  remonstrances  of  his  counsellors,  he  is  stated  to 
have  said,  that  he  would  sell  the  city  of  London 
without  scruple,  if  he  only  knew  where  to  find  a 
purchaser. 

This  indifference  of  Richard  to  his  own  interest 
and  that  of  his  country,  induced  William  the  Lion  to 
come  forward,  and  offer  to  redeem  the  independence 
of  Scotland,  for  which  country  he  had  done  homage 
to  Henry  before  he  was  set  at  liberty.  This  he  ac- 
complished by  the  payment  of  ten  thousand  marks, 
and  at  the  same  time  received  back  the  castles  of  Ber- 
wick and  Roxburgh,  Edinburgh  castle  having  been 
previously  restored.  The  charter  by  which  Richard 
renounced  his  superiority,  restores  also  all  the  pri- 
vileges and  possessions  which  Henry  his  father  had 
extorted,  and  confirms  the  lands  in  England,  pos- 
sessed by  William,  to  him  and  his  heirs  for  ever,  re- 
serving only  the  homage  for  these,  which  continued 
to  be  yielded  as  before. 

Richard  having  now  drained  the  resources  of  Eng- 
land, was  anxious  to  pass  over  to  his  continental 
territories,  but  was  detained  some  time  longer  by 
the  arrival  of  the  cardinal  of  Anagni,  again  deputed 
by  the  pope  to  adjust  some  differences  between  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  monks  of  the 
Holy  Trinity.  This  interference  on  the  part  of  the 
supreme  pontiff  was  by  no  means  agreeable  to 
Richard,  who  was  as  little  inclined  as  his  father  to 
allow  any  potentate,  temporal  or  spiritual,  to  exercise 
authority  in  his  dominions.  He  therefore  sent 
orders  to  his  officers,  that  the  cardinal  should  be 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  69 

detained  at  Dover,  and  in  the  meantime  set  out 
in  person  for  Canterbury,  where  he  prevailed  upon 
the  contending  parties  to  submit  to  his  own  arbitra- 
tion. Rotrou,  count  of  Perch e,  ambassador  from 
Philip  of  France,  now  arrived  in  England,  and  com- 
municated to  the  king  and  his  barons  the  resolutions 
which  had  been  passed  at  the  great  assembly  of  the 
states,  convened  at  Paris ;  by  these  it  was  finally 
fixed  that,  on  the  approaching  term  of  Easter,  the 
king  and  all  his  nobility  should  rendezvous  at  Yeze- 
lai,  and  proceed  direct  to  Jerusalem.  The  count 
further  was  charged^  to  inform  Richard,  that  king 
Philip  earnestly  desired  that  they  might  accomplish 
the  voyage  together,  and  therefore  prayed  that  he 
would  make  haste  to  set  his  affairs  in  order  at  home, 
so  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  join  him  in  the 
following  spring.  In  consequence  of  this  request,  a 
general  assembly  was  held  at  Westminster,  at  which 
the  earl  of  Essex,  as  marshal  of  the  realm,  swore  in 
name  of  his  royal  master,  to  meet  with  Philip  at  the 
appointed  place  and  time,  and  thence  proceed  to 
Palestine.  The  last  arrangement  which  Richard 
made,  was  to  provide  for  the  administration  of 
England  during  his  absence,  and  in  this  respect  he 
made  a  most  unfortunate  choice.  William  Long- 
champ,  bishop  of  Ely,  was  appointed  grand  chancel- 
lor and  also  justiciary  of  England  to  the  south  of  the 
Humber.  This  last  dignity  was  doubtless  an  in- 
fringement upon  the  rights  of  the  bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, but  as  the  administration  of  the  northern 
counties  was  left  to  his  charge,  he  did  not  venture 
to  murmur  openly.  The  appointment  of  these  men, 
who  were  not  qualified  either  by  birth  or  character 


70  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

to  undertake  so  important  a  charge,  gave  general 
dissatisfaction  to  the  nobles ;  but  Richard  would 
not  hear  of  any  opposition  to  his  will.  To  make 
bad  worse,  these  prelates  were  exceedingly  envious 
of  each  other,  and,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel, 
their  dissensions  proved  of  no  small  detriment  to 
the  state.  All  things  being  now  settled,  Richard 
repaired  to  Dover  along  with  the  cardinal  Anagni, 
who  in  the  interim  had  removed  an  interdict  laid  by 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  on  the  lands  of  prince 
John,  on  account  of  his  marriage  with  the  heiress  of 
Gloucester,  who  was  within  the  prohibited  degree 
of  consanguinity.  From  Dover  the  king  crossed 
over  to  Flanders,  where  he  was  cordially  received 
by  the  count,  who  accompanied  him  into  Normandy. 
The  time  fixed  for  the  commencement  of  the 
crusade  was  now  fast  approaching,  but  the  death  of 
the  queen  of  France  caused  it  to  be  postponed  for 
a  period,  and  it  was  finally  arranged  that  the  forces 
should  not  embark  until  midsummer.  Meantime, 
the  kings  held  a  conference  at  Gue  St.  Remi, 
where  the  most  friendly  intentions,  auguring  well 
for  the  future  alliance  of  France  and  England,  were 
professed  on  either  side.  The  kings  swore,  during 
the  continuance  of  the  crusade,  to  preserve  the  peace 
between  both  countries  inviolate — nay  more,  to  lend 
each  other  assistance  in  case  either  should  be  attacked 
by  a  foreign  power  ;  and  as  their  absence  would  of 
course  prevent  any  personal  interference,  they  exacted 
a  like  oath  from  the  prelates  and  barons,  who  were 
appointed  to  remain  in  charge  of  their  respective 
dominions.  With  regard  to  the  conduct  of  the  ex- 
pedition, it  was  agreed  that  in  case  of  the  death  of 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  71 

either,  the  survivor  should  be  put  in  possession  of 
the  whole  treasure  appertaining  to  the  deceased, 
and  should  of  right  succeed  to  the  command  of  his 
army  ;  and  these  engagements  were  fortified  by  the 
penalty  of  censure,  to  which  they  voluntarily  sub- 
jected themselves,  if  failing  in  or  breaking  their 
solemn  reciprocal  covenant.  Never  before  were 
the  two  great  nations  bound  together  by  such 
amicable  ties,  never  were  the  kings  of  France  and 
England  united  by  so  cordial  a  bond.  It  is  to  be 
regretted  that  the  tenure  of  it  was  not  stronger  and 
more  lasting,  and  that  the  dispositions  of  the  obligants 
did  not  by  nature  more  closely  harmonise. 

Before  setting  out,  Richard  sent  for  his  mother 
Eleanor,  who  brought  along  with  her  the  princess 
Adelais,  and  he  also  called  another  great  assembly  of 
his  peers.  The  nomination  of  Geoffry  to  the  arch- 
bishopric of  York  had  been  confirmed  by  the  pope, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties,  except,  perhaps,  of 
Richard,  who  dreaded  his  extreme  popularity  with 
the  commons,  and  was  apprehensive  lest  it  might  be 
turned  against  himself.  At  this  meeting,  therefore, 
he  exacted  an  oath  from  the  archbishop,  and  from 
his  brother  John,  that  they  would  not  set  foot  in 
England  for  a  period  of  three  years  subsequent  to 
his  departure;  a  restriction  which  he  afterwards 
thought  fit  to  revoke  so  far  as  regarded  the 
prince,  the  person  of  all  others  against  whom  it 
ought  to  have  been  most  rigorously  enforced. 
Baldwin,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  now  took 
formal  leave  of  the  king.  His  impatience  to  arrive 
in  Palestine  and  join  the  Christian  forces  now 
encamped  before  Acre,  was  so  strong  that  he  could 


72  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

not  wait  for  the  tardy  embarkation  of  the  royal  army, 
but  set  out  in  company  with  Hubert  bishop  of  Salis- 
bury, and  Ranulph  de  Glanville,  the  old  justiciary. 
These  distinguished  personages  arrived  in  time  to  be 
present  at  one  of  the  most  memorable  actions  which 
occurred  during  the  siege  of  Acre.  The  king  then 
appointed  five  commissioners  to  regulate  the  fleet 
and  the  order  of  embarkation,  and  issued  the  follow- 
ing singular  regulations,  to  be  strictly  observed 
during  the  voyage.  The  ordinance  runs  thus.  "  If 
any  one  shall  slay  another  on  board  ship,  he  shall  be 
bound  to  the  dead  body  and  cast  into  the  sea — if  he 
slay  him  on  land,  he  shall  be  bound  and  buried  as 
before.  If  it  shall  be  proved  by  lawful  witnesses 
that  any  one  has  drawn  his  knife  upon  another,  or 
wounded  him  to  the  effusion  of  his  blood,  his  hand 
shall  be  struck  off — if  he  smite  him  with  the  fist 
only,  he  shall  be  plunged  three  times  into  the  sea. 
EverjT  time  that  one  voyager  insults  another  with 
irritating  or  opprobrious  language,  he  shall  forfeit 
an  ounce  of  silver.  If  any  one  shall  be  convicted  of 
theft,  he  shall  have  his  head  shaved,  shall  be  tarred  and 
feathered^  and  put  ashore  on  the  first  coast  whereat 
the  vessel  may  touch."  The  latter  part  of  these 
regulations  is  curious,  as  establishing  the  antiquity 
of  a  custom  not  yet  entirely  exploded. 

William  Longchamp,  the  chancellor,  now  returned 
to  England  for  the  purpose  of  entering  into  his  new 
functions  as  viceroy,  and  afforded  Richard,  before 
setting  sail,  a  specimen  of  the  administration  which 
England  was  doomed  to  suffer  during  the  monarch's 
absence  in  a  foreign  land.  His  first  step  was  to 
fortify  the  Tower  of  London,  of  which  he  was  ap- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  73 

pointed  keeper ;  his  next  was  to  seize  upon  the  person 
of  the  bishop  of  Durham,  his  colleague  and  justiciary 
of  the  northern  counties,  whom  he  detained  in  close 
custody  until  he  gave  up  Windsor  castle  and  other 
places  of  strength  which  the  king  had  entrusted  to 
his  charge.  After  this  he  made  over  the  county  of 
York  to  his  brother  Osbert  de  Longchamp,  and 
proceeded  to  levy  enormous  contributions  from  the 
clergy.  His  conduct  was  speedily  complained  of, 
and  remonstrances  were  forwarded  to  Richard,  who, 
nevertheless,  espoused  the  cause  of  his  favourite,  and 
testified  no  displeasure  against  him,  unless  the  issue 
of  a  charter  confirming  the  former  grants  to  the 
bishop  of  Durham,  can  be  interpreted  as  such. 

About  midsummer,  A.  D.  1190,  the  kings  of 
England  and  France  rendezvoused  with  their  res- 
pective armies  in  the  plains  of  Vezelai.  The  spec- 
tacle was  most  imposing,  for  all  the  chivalry  of  the 
kingdoms  were  gathered  there  together,  vying  with 
each  other  in  pomp  and  magnificence.  Innumerable 
tents  covered  the  surface  of  the  country.  Squadrons 
of  horsemen  were  seen  in  every  direction,  marching 
and  exercising  in  the  fields,  and  thousands  of  spec- 
tators were  assembled  from  all  parts  of  France,  eager 
to  behold  the  gorgeous  array,  or  to  take  leave  of  their 
friends  before  their  departure  to  Palestine.  After 
remaining  for  two  days  at  Vezelai,  the  encampment 
was  broken  up,  and  the  armies  marched  together  as 
far  as  Lyons,  where  they  separated ;  Philip  proceeded 
to  Genoa,  where  his  fleet  awaited  him,  and  Richard 
marched  onwards  to  Marseilles. 

As  we  have  not  hitherto  described  the  personal 
appearance  of  Richard,  we  shall  take  the  present 


74  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

opportunity  of  drawing  our  sketch  from  the  accounts 
of  different  historians,  some  of  whom  had  frequent 
opportunities  of  beholding  him  ;  and  though  their 
portraits  do  not  correspond  in  every  particular, 
some  being  drawn  with  too  partial  a  hand,  and 
others  purposely  distorted,  there  still  runs  through 
the  whole  a  sufficient  resemblance  to  enable  us  to 
identify  the  great  and  rare  original.  Richard,  then, 
"was  considerably  above  the  common  stature,  large 
and  strongly  built,  with  the  sinews  of  a  Hercules, 
and  the  heart  of  a  lion.  His  hair  was  of  that  light 
colour,  between  auburn  and  yellow,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  denote  the  predominance  of  the  Gothic 
blood ;  his  eyes  were  brilliant  and  sparkling  at  all 
times,  but  more  especially  when  he  was  roused.  In 
battle,  it  is  said  that  his  aspect  was  so  tremendous, 
tjiat  the  boldest  of  his  enemies  hesitated  to  encounter 
him,  and  shrunk  back  as  much  dismayed  by  the 
terror  which  his  look  inspired,  as  from  fear  of  the 
might  of  that  redoubted  arm.  His  whole  figure, 
indeed,  might  have  been  taken  as  a  model  of  manly 
strength,  and  even  of  just  proportion,  had  not  the 
great  length  of  his  arms  deviated  from  the  classical 
standard ;  but  this  peculiarity  was  manifestly  an 
advantage,  as  it  gave  him  an  immense  superiority  in 
the  use  of  the  sword  and  axe.  Of  his  character  we 
shall  have  to  speak  more  fully  hereafter,  at  present 
we  shall  confine  our  notice  to  his  natural  temper. 
Like  all  persons  of  an  ardent  temperament,  who  have 
not  learned  from  experience  the  art  of  controlling 
themselves,  Richard  was  very  apt  to  pass  into 
extremes.  His  attachments  were  ardent  and  lasting, 
but  his  dislikes  were  equally  strong.  He  was  choleric 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  75 

and  passionate  even  to  his  friends,  who  durst  not  go 
beyond  a  certain  length  even  in  the  tender  of  their 
advice,  and  were  forced  to  watch  the  countenance  of 
their  royal  master,  which  never  failed  to  give  them 
warning,  though  short,  of  his  rising  anger.  These 
fits  passed  away  as  suddenly  as  they  arose ;  still, 
during  their  continuance,  it  was  wiser  to  avoid  his 

O 

presence  than  to  brave  the  fury  of  the  storm.  Un- 
rivalled as  he  was  in  war,  Richard  had  a  strong 
natural  taste  for  the  fine  arts  ;  he  loved  minstrelsy 
to  distraction,  and  his  admirers  declare  that  he  was 
himself  a  poet  of  no  mean  pretensions.  We  shall 
afterwards  present  to  our  readers  in  its  proper  place, 
a  specimen  of  Richard's  composition,  from  which 
they  may  be  enabled  to  judge  for  themselves  of  his 
proficiency  in  the  gentle  science.  Certain  it  is,  that 
in  his  own  time,  his  reputation  was  high  among  the 
troubadours,  but  where  is  the  poet-prince  who  will 
not  find  criticism  disarmed  of  half  its  terrors  ?  As 
to  valour  and  personal  prowess,  it  is  needless  for  us 
to  speak  in  his  praise.  Even  at  this  day  there  is 
scarce  a  child  in  Europe,  who  is  not  acquainted  with 
the  name  of  the  lion-hearted  Richard,  and  who  has 
not  heard  something  of  his  deeds  in  the  Holy  Land. 
And  if  the  memory  of  his  valour  has  escaped  the 
clutch  of  time,  if  his  name  is  still  in  our  mouths 
familiar  as  a  household  word — what  must  have  been 
the  fame  of  our  English  monarch  in  the  full  and 
present  blaze  of  his  renown  ? — What  must  have  been 
the  enthusiasm  of  his  soldiers,  whose  lot  it  was  to 
follow  a  leader  more  adventurous  than  any  of  the 
paladins  ? — And  what  wonder,  if,  amidst  the  over- 
powering lustre  of  his  achievements,  his  faults  were 


76  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES    OP 

overlooked  and  forgotten  ?  Our  creed  is  that  of 
peace,  and  war  we  consider  less  in  the  light  of  a  neces- 
sary evil,  than  as  the  greatest  blot  on  the  memory 
of  all  who  rashly  engage  in  it.  It  is  a  recantation 
of  the  Christian  faith — and  theworst  crime  against  the 
laws  of  nature  and  of  God.  Such  is  our  fixed  opinion, 
and  yet,  so  powerful  is  the  effect  of  old  associations, 
that  the  very  mention  of  the  name  of  Coeur-de-Lion, 
thrills  us  as  though  we  heard  the  trumpets  sound, 
and  beheld  the  kingly  warrior  charging,  with  his 
English  chivalry  around  him,  into  the  densest  of  the 
Saracens'  battle ! 

"  For  what  were  Richard,  if  he  was  not  first? 
Is't  not  a  monarch's  right  in  war  and  peace, 
To  pass  before  his  subjects  ?     Where's  the  man 
Would  turn  his  craven  back,  and  hie  him  home, 
When  in  the  middle  of  the  hostile  press 
He  sees  the  floating  war-plume  of  his  king, 
And  hears  his  voice,  above  the  trumpets'  jar 
Shout,  To  the  rescue  ?     Every  heart  becomes 
Too  mighty  for  its  breast,  and  on  they  pour 
To  that  one  centre,  irresistible 
As  lions  bounding  among  antelopes  ! 
Who  shall  lead  on  the  soldiers  but  their  king  ? 
Where  in  the  battle  will  they  find  an  eye 
Whose  glance  will  better  kindle  up  their  own  ? 
Whom  will  they  sooner  circle  and  defend — 
Whom  will  they  die  for  sooner  than  their  king  ?  " 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  77 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Arrival  of  Richard  at  Messina — His  Reception  by  King  Tancred — 
Disturbances  with  the  Natives — Their  Attack  upon  the  English 
— Richard  takes  Messina  hy  Assault — Dispute  with  Philip — 
Richard  makes  a  Treaty  with  Tancred — Builds  the  Castle  of 
Mategriffon — Encounter  of  Richard  and  William  de  Barres — 
The  Abbot  Joachim  of  Hautepierre — Domestic  History — Queen 
Eleanor  arrives  in  Sicily  with  the  Princess  Berengaria  of  Navarre 
— Tancred  reveals  to  Richard  the  Treachery  of  Philip — Marriage 
of  Richard  and  Adelais  finally  broken  off — Richard  leaves  Mes- 
sina— Seizure  of  some  his  Ships  at  Cyprus,  and  Attempt  of  the 
Emperor  Isaac  to  seize  on  his  Sister  and  Berengaria — Richard 
takes  Limesol,  and  defeats  the  whole  Army  of  the  Cypriots  with 
a  few  of  his  Knights — Treachery  of  Isaac — Richard  takes  Fama- 
gosta  and  Nicosia — Arrival  of  Guy  of  Lusignan,  whose  Party  is 
adopted  by  the  King — Marriage  of  Richard  and  Berengaria — 
Richard  leaves  Cyprus — Encounters  and  sinks  a  large  Turkish 
Trireme — Arrives  at  Acre. 

THE  English  fleet,  consisting  of  more  than  a  hun- 
dred large  vessels,  set  sail  as  early  as  the  Easter 
holidays ;  but  violent  storms,  which  they  encoun- 
tered at  sea,  caused  them  to  disperse,  and  before 
they  were  again  collected  and  could  reach  Marseilles 
nearly  five  months  had  gone  by.  Richard  waited 
for  three  weeks  in  hopes  of  their  appearance;  but  as  no 
tidings  of  them  arrived,  he  hired  ten  vessels  and  set 
sail  for  Sicily.  On  his  way  he  touched  at  Genoa 
and  Ostium,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  fall  in 
with  his  fleet  at  Salerno,  from  which  place  they 
proceeded  to  Messina. 

The  island  of  Sicily  was  at  this  time  ruled  by 
Tancred,  cousin  of  the  late  king  William,  who  had 
married  Joan,  sister  of  Richard.  Tancred's  title  to 
the  throne  was  by  no  means  clear,  and  as  he  was 
moreover  of  an  avaricious  character,  and  unwilling 


78  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

to  make  good  the  provision  settled  upon  the  queen- 
dowager,  he  fell  upon  the  easier  expedient  of  retain- 
ing her  in  the  island,  contrary  to  her  own  remon- 
strances and  the  repeated  desire  of  her  brother.  It 
was  therefore  not  without  alarm  that  Tancred  beheld 
the  English  fleet  enter  the  harbour  of  Messina, 
which  was  already  occupied  by  the  French.  Policy, 
however,  as  well  as  the  laws  of  hospitality,  compelled 
him  to  receive  the  new-comers  as  guests;  and  Richard 
made  his  entry  into  the  town,  with  trumpets  sound- 
ing and  banners  displayed,  as  though  he  were  the 
conqueror  of  the  place.  A  large  house  in  the  suburbs 
was  allotted  him  for  his  residence,  while  Philip  as 
the  safer  inmate  was  quartered  within  the  walls ;  a 
distinction  which  Richard  speedily  perceived,  and 
understanding  the  motive,  resolved  to  shape  his 
conduct  accordingly.  In  fact  it  was  difficult  at  first 
to  say  whether  he  came  in  the  character  of  an  enemy 
or  a  friend. 

Tancred,  from  motives  of  prudence,  retired  to  his 
city  of  Catanea,  leaving  Messina  entirely  in  the  hands 
of  the  crusaders.  The  chief  officers  of  the  island, 
however, were  sent  todo  thehonours  to  theguests,with 
orders  to  maintain,  if  possible,  a  good  understanding 
between  them  and  the  inhabitants.  The  people  of 
Messina  were  a  rude  and  barbarous  race,  of  mixed 
European  and  Asiatic  origin,  jealous  of  all  foreigners, 
and  exceedingly  apt  to  quarrel.  It  is  therefore  little 
matter  of  surprise,  that  feuds  and  disturbances  arose 
between  them  and  the  English,  shortly  after  the 
arrival  of  the  latter — that  ill  blood  was  generated 
betwixt  them,  and  that  the  crusaders  repaid  the 
insults  of  the  natives  with  blows.  The  market- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  79 

place  speedily  became  a  daily  scene  of  confusion 
and  outrage,  and  although  the  English  and  Sicilian 
authorities  took  every  measure  to  promote  a  better 
understanding,  the  mutual  dislike  of  the  parties 
increased  rather  than  diminished,  and  on  more  than 
one  occasion  blood  was  freely  shed.  The  conduct 
also  of  Richard,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  not  calcu- 
lated to  allay  the  fears  of  the  Messinese.  Imme- 
diately on  his  arrival  he  despatched  messengers  to 
Tancred,  requiring  him  to  deliver  up  the  person  of 
his  sister  Joan,  and  to  make  restitution  of  her  dowry. 
The  latter  part  of  this  demand  was  not  fulfilled  at 
the  time,  but  the  queen  was  instantly  sent ;  and 
Richard,  crossing  the  straits,  seized  upon  a  castle  on 
the  Calabrian  shore,  which  he  prepared  for  her 
residence,  and  took  possession  of  a  neighbouring 
island,  which  he  converted  into  a  depot  for  provi- 
sions. These  proceedings  tended  greatly  to  inflame 
the  anger  of  the  inhabitants,  and  placed  the  officers 
of  Tancred  in  a  very  disagreeable  position.  A  con- 
spiracy was  hatched  by  the  Messinese,  who  one 
morning  rose  up  in  a  body,  fell  upon  such  of  the 
English  as  were  within  the  town  and  expelled  them 
forcibly  from  the  gates.  The  camp  was  instantly 
in  an  uproar ;  the  crusaders  vehemently  demanded 
permission  to  avenge  this  insult ;  and  an  instant 
assault  would  have  been  the  consequence,  had  not 
Philip  of  France,  accompanied  by  the  Sicilian  offi- 
cers, entered  the  English  quarters  with  the  view  of 
adjusting  differences  with  the  king.  Richard,  though 
highly  incensed,  and  just  upon  the  point  of  leading 
his  followers  to  the  attack,  could  not  refuse  to  accept 
their  mediation ;  but  in  the  middle  of  the  conference 


80  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

a  fresh  alarm  was  heard  from  without,  and  the  kings 
were  apprised  that  the  townsmen  had  issued  forth, 
had  fallen  upon  the  quarters  of  Hugo  le  Brun,  and 
had  already  killed  and  taken  several  of  his  men. 
Richard  started  up,  and  without  uttering  a  word 
left  the  assembly — the  others,  foreseeing  the  conse- 
quences, made  haste  to  enter  the  town.  The  appear- 
ance of  the  king  in  the  middle  of  the  combat  gave 
new  energy  to  the  English.  Although  taken  by 
surprise  they  rallied  so  fast,  that  the  Sicilians  were 
speedily  driven  within  the  gates,  and  Richard,  whose 
blood  was  now  fairly  up,  gave  orders  for  a  general 
assault.  The  consternation  of  the  Messinese,  when 
they  saw  the  commencement  of  those  preparations, 
which  boded  nothing  but  slaughter  and  rapine  to 
themselves,  may  well  be  imagined.  Some  manned 
the  walls  and  repaired  their  military  engines  as  well 
as  they  could  on  so  short  a  notice — others  ran  to  the 
king  of  France,  and  implored  him  to  save  themselves 
and  their  city  from  destruction.  The  first  ardour  of 
Philip's  attachment  to  Richard  had  for  some  time 
been  cooled ;  frequent  altercations,  in  which  Cceur-de- 
lion  manifested  his  hot  and  impetuous  character,  had 
shown  the  king  of  France  that  his  English  brother 
and  friend  was  likely  to  become  a  dangerous  rival, 
and  therefore  he  had  less  hesitation  in  acceding  to 
the  prayers  of  the  Messinese,  and  even  went  so  far 
as  to  arm  in  their  behalf,  and  to  despatch  a  messenger 
to  Richard  forbidding  him  to  enter  the  city.  If 
Richard  had  previously  hesitated,  this  interference 
on  the  part  of  France  would  at  once  have  decided 
him  to  persevere.  A  furious  assault  commenced,  in 
the  course  of  which  several  of  the  English  knights 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  81 

were  killed  from  the  ramparts;  but  at  last  the 
assailants  mounted  upon  the  walls,  the  gates  were 
forced  open,  and  the  townsmen  put  to  flight.  Philip, 
alarmed  for  the  consequences,  retired  to  his  own 
palace,  which  was  left  unmolested;  not  so  the  houses 
of  the  Messinese.  These  were  given  up  to  plunder, 
although  the  lives  of  such  as  offered  no  resistance 
were  spared,  and  the  standard  of  England  was 
planted  upon  the  walls  of  the  town. 

Philip  was  highly  indignant  at  this  last  action  of 
the  English,  which  he  considered  as  an  infringement 
of  the  respect  due  to  him  as  feudal  superior  to  their 
king,  and  as  tantamount  to  an  assertion  of  their  own 
supremacy.  He  demanded,  therefore,  that  the 
standard  of  England  should  be  taken  down,  and 
that  of  France  displayed  upon  the  walls ;  and  his 
request  was  met  by  Richard  with  a  flat  denial — 
"  Does  he  think,"  said  he,  "  that  I  will  yield  my 
conquests  and  the  glory  of  the  victory  to  one  who 
is  not  even  a  sluggish  friend,  but  a  perjured  and 
vexatious  enemy !"  At  length  the  remonstrances  of 
his  prelates,  who  dreaded  exceedingly  lest  any  serious 
quarrel  should  arise  between  the  kings  and  might 
impede  the  prosecution  of  the  great  object  of  the 
expedition,  induced  Richard  to  remove  his  standard. 
He  left  the  city  in  charge  of  Philip,  and  care  was 
afterwards  taken  to  prevent  any  recurrence  of  the 
late  disorders.  This,  however,  there  was  little  cause 
to  dread,  as  the  Messinese  had  received  a  severe  and 
convincing  proof  of  the  danger  they  had  incurred  by 
tampering  too  far  with  the  patience  of  their  English 
visitors. 

The  season  was  now  so  far  advanced  that  the 


82  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

crusaders  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  prosecuting 
their  voyage  until  the  succeeding  spring.  Philip 
kept  himself  close  within  his  palace,  affecting  to 
play  the  part  of  protector  to  the  Messinese ;  while 
Richard,  to  whom  idleness  was  unknown,  com- 
menced a  negociation  with  Tancred  for  the  resti- 
tution of  his  sister's  dowry,  and  for  the  delivery 
of  a  certain  number  of  vessels  which  the  late  king 
of  Sicily  had  promised  to  contribute  towards  the 
furtherance  of  the  crusade.  An  embassy  for  that 
purpose  was  despatched  to  Catanea,  and  was  cour- 
teously received  by  Tancred,  who  willingly  received 
the  explanation  offered  by  Richard  for  his  late  con- 
duct, and  attributed  the  blame  to  the  rashness  and 
hostility  of  his  own  subjects.  Philip  appears  to 
have  acted  on  this  occasion  with  much  treachery  and 
deceit.  The  recollection  of  the  insult  offered  to  his 
flag  was  by  no  means  effaced  from  his  memory ; 
besides,  certain  circumstances  now  led  him  to  suspect 
that  the  alliance  between  Richard  and  his  sister 
Adelais,  which  had  been  so  long  postponed,  was 
likely  to  be  broken  off  for  ever.  Yielding  to  the 
dictates  of  resentment,  he  secretly  despatched  messen- 
gers to  Tancred  with  an  exaggerated  account  of  the 
affair  at  Messina ;  and  made  such  representations  as 
were  calculated  to  mislead  that  prince  in  his  estimate 
of  the  power  and  influence  of  the  English,  and  to  give 
him  hopes  that,  in  case  of  another  outbreak,  the 
French  would  espouse  the  cause  of  the  Sicilians. 
These  intrigues  of  Philip  had  so  far  an  effect,  that 
the  settlement  required  by  Richard  was  postponed, 
and  the  supply  of  provisions  brought  to  the  Eng- 
lish market  so  much  lessened  as  to  cause  serious 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  83 

alarm.  As  a  hint  therefore  to  Tancred,  that  further 
delay  in  the  adjustment  of  these  claims  might  be 
attended  with  the  loss  of  his  kingdom,  and  that  the 
hearts  of  the  English  crusaders  were  not  so  earnestly 
set  upon  the  conquest  of  the  Holy  Land,  as  to  render 
other  acquisitions  wholly  unacceptable,  Richard  com- 
menced the  construction  of  a  large  and  strong  castle, 
upon  an  eminence  overlooking  the  town  of  Messina, 
and  employed  in  the  work  not  only  the  soldiers  of 
the  army,  but  the  sailors  from  the  fleet.  This  castle 
he  named  Mategriffon,  i.  e.  Slayer  of  the  Griffons, 
a  term  of  reproach  applied  to  the  Messinese,  who,  as 
we  may  suppose,  looked  upon  the  monument  of  their 
own  defeat  with  anything  but  eyes  of  favour.  To 
this  place  Richard  removed  his  residence,  and  kept 
such  state  there  as  the  circumstances  of  the  time 
and  place  would  permit. 

Tancred  now  perceived  that  it  was  vain  for  him 
to  stand  out  against  the  power  and  impetuosity  of 
Richard,  and  proposed  a  compromise,  which  was 
accepted.  By  this  treaty  it  was  agreed  that  twenty 
thousand  ounces  of  gold  should  be  paid  to  the  queen 
Joan,  in  satisfaction  of  her  dowry ;  twenty  thousand 
more  to  Richard,  in  satisfaction  of  the  engagements 
and  legacies  of  the  late  king  William;  and  the  daughter 
of  Tancred  was  affianced  to  the  young  duke  Arthur 
of  Bretagne,  son  of  Geoffry,  and  nephew  and  heir 
of  Richard.  These  terms  were  considered  honour- 
able to  both  parties,  and  were  communicated  to  the 
Pope,  in  a  confidential  letter  from  Richard. 

Peace  being  thus  established,  the  winter  passed 
over  without  the  occurrence  of  any  very  remarkable 
event,   unless   we    reckon  as    such   an    attack   of 
G  2 


84  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

some  maurauding  Pisans  and  Genoese  upon  the  fleet 
of  Richard,  which  was,  however,  without  much 
difficulty  repelled.  We  shall  here  relate  an  acci- 
dent that  occurred  during  Richard's  stay  at  Mate- 
griffon,  as  it  is  very  characteristic  of  the  impetuous 
nature  of  the  man.  Riding  out  one  morning  to 
exercise,  as  was  his  constant  habit,  accompanied  by 
several  of  the  most  distinguished  knights  of  England 
and  France,  he  encountered  a  peasant  leading  an  ass 
laden  with  canes,  and  being  in  a  frolicsome  mood, 
he  purchased  the  whole  burden,  and  distributed  them 
amongst  his  attendants,  avowing  his  intention  of 
holding  a  tournament  on  the  spot.  No  amusement 
could  have  suited  the  company  better.  Each  knight 
selected  his  antagonist,  retired  to  a  proper  distance, 
placed  his  weapon  in  the  rest,  and  encountered  in 
mid  career.  Of  course  there  were  few  saddles  emptied 
in  this  mimic  joust,  although  most  of  the  spears  were 
broken;  but  it  so  happened  that  William  de  Barres, 
who  was  esteemed  the  bravest  knight  in  the  French 
army,  was  the  antagonist  of  the  king,  and  tore  his 
garment  in  the  course.  It  is  said  that  Richard  had 
a  pique  against  this  knight,  on  account  of  his  having 
formerly  broken  parole  when  a  prisoner  in  Norman- 
dy ;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  Richard  lost  his  temper, 
and  drove  against  him  so  fiercely,  that  de  Barres' 
horse  stumbled,  and  the  rider  was  nearly  over- 
thrown. At  the  same  moment,  the  girth  of  the 
king's  saddle  burst,  and  Richard  was  hurled  to  the 
ground.  This  untoward  accident  made  him  doubly 
furious.  He  called  for  another  horse,  and  made  a 
second  attack  upon  de  Barres,  who  still  maintained 
his  seat.  Fortunately,  none  of  the  party  carried 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  85 

more  dangerous  weapons  than  those  which  had  given 
rise  to  the  contest.  Robert  de  Breteuil,  son  of  the 
earl  of  Leicester,  who  had  been  knighted  the  day 
before,  laid  hands  \ipon  de  Barres,  but  Richard 
ordered  him  to  be  gone.  "  What !"  cried  he  "think- 
est  thou  I  have  need  of  another  to  overthrow  a 
traitor  like  this  ? "  Again  he  seized  on  de  Barres, 
and  strove  to  drag  him  from  his  seat ;  yet  with 
all  his  gigantic  strength  he  could  not  make  him 
swerve  from  his  place,  and  the  knight  recovering 
from  his  amazement,  grappled  fiercely  with  the 
king.  Their  force  appeared  so  nearly  matched  that 
neither  could  overcome  the  other,  and  the  rest  of  the 
company  at  last  interfering,  put  an  end  to  this  un- 
seemly struggle.  Then  Richard,  looking  angrily  on 
his  antagonist,  exclaimed,  "  Get  thee  gone,  sir  knight, 
and  beware  how  thou  comest  before  me  again,  for 
thou  hast  made  an  enemy  of  a  king,  and  my  hatred 
shall  pursue  thee  and  thine  for  ever  ! "  Upon  this, 
de  Barres  departed  in  great  confusion ;  and  although 
his  royal  master  and  the  other  leaders  of  the  crusade 
waited  next  day  upon  Richard,  and  entreated  him 
to  forego  his  resentment,  representing  how  detri- 
mental it  would  be  to  the  cause  if  they  lost  the  ser- 
vices of  a  knight  so  valiant  and  esteemed  as  de  Barres, 
it  was  some  time  before  they  could  persuade  him 
to  recall  his  words;  nor  was  it  until  long  after,  when 
he  witnessed  the  prowess  of  the  Frenchman  in  the 
field  of  battle,  that  he  thoroughly  forgave  him  for 
the  insult  so  unwittingly  committed. 

If  any  of  our  readers  should  happen  to-  be  pro- 
found students  of  the  Apocalypse,  and  to  have 
formed  any  theory  regarding  the  rightful  interpre- 


86  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES   OF 

tation  of  the  mysteries  therein  contained,  it  may 
gratify  them  to  know,  that  about  this  time  there 
lived  at  the  monastery  of  Haute-pierre,  in  Calabria, 
a  famous  abbot  called  Joachim,  •who  was  not  only 
an  expounder  of  these,  but  a  prophet  of  no  small 
reputation,  and  that  in  his  own  country.  This  man 
at  a  very  early  age  had  undertaken  a  pilgrimage  to 
Jerusalem,  where  he  asserted  that  he  had  received 
from  Heaven  the  key  to  the  mysteries  of  St.  John. 
These  he  professed  thoroughly  to  understand  ;  and 
so  widely  were  his  opinions  bruited,  that  they  ob- 
tained from  him  the  notice  of  the  head  of  the  church, 
and  that  in  no  enviable  form,  since  in  the  council  of 
the  Lateran,  under  Innocent  III.,  he  was  declared  a 
Tritheist  and  open  heretic.  Richard  was  curious  to 
behold  so  singular  a  character,  and,  being  perhaps 
infected  with  a  touch  of  that  superstition  common 
to  the  time,  sent  for  this  prophet  from  his  monas- 
tery in  Calabria,  and  questioned  him  regarding  the 
probable  success  of  the  crusade.  To  this  Joachim 
replied,  that  the  time  for  the  deliverance  of  Jerusalem 
was  not  yet  come  ;  that  Saladin  was  the  sixth  head 
of  the  Dragon,  and  that  according  to  the  mystery 
of  the  numbers,  he  could  not  be  destroyed  until 
seven  more  years  were  fulfilled  ;  but  that  Richard 
would  reap  great  glory  from  his  expedition,  and 
would  triumph  over  all  his  enemies.  It  appears 
that  the  worthy  abbot  was  unwilling  to  lose  the 
opportunity  of  detailing  his  religious  opinions  to  so 
distinguished  an  auditory,  for  passing  rapidly  from 
the  subject  of  the  crusades,  he  launched  forth  in 
the  exposition  of  the  Apocalypse  from  beginning  to 
end,  affirming  that  Antichrist  was  already  born, 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  87 

though  not  advanced  to  manhood,  that  Rome  was 
the  place  of  his  birth,  and  that  he  would  be  elected 
pope.  This  hardy  assertion  drew  upon  the  prophet 
the  wrath  of  the  French  and  English  prelates,  who 
entered  keenly  into  the  discussion  ;  and  much  learn- 
ing was  spent  on  either  side  in  canvassing  points, 
which,  to  the  present  day,  have  baffled  the  ingenuity 
of  the  uninspired. 

We  now  come  to  a  domestic  part  of  the  history  of 
Richard,  which  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  as  it 
severed  entirely  the  bond  of  friendship  between  him 
and  Philip  of  France ;  a  bond  which  for  some  time 
had  been  relaxing  in  strength,  but  which  was  never 
fairly  broken  until  now.  Before  the  death  of  Henry, 
Richard  had  been  attracted  and  subdued  by  the 
beauty  of  Berengaria,  daughter  of  Sanchez,  king  of 
Navarre,  and  the  passion  thus  kindled  had  still  con- 
tinued to  burn,  though  Adelais  was  now  free,  and 
the  preliminaries  of  his  marriage  with  her  were 
adjusted.  It  does  not  appear  that  Richard  ever  enter- 
tained any  real  regard  for  the  French  princess. 
Between  him  and  her  a  terrible  gulf  was  created  by 
the  suspicion  of  an  illicit  intercourse  with  his  father, 
which  the  conduct  of  Henry  went  far  to  establish. 
The  princess,  indeed,  was  loud  in  her  denial  of  the 
imputation  ;  but  what  woman  would  not  have  said 
the  same,  when  her  honour  and  character  were 
impeached  ?  Eleanor,  the  queen-mother,  had  such 
ample  proof  of  the  other  infidelities  of  her  husband, 
that  she  was  prone  to  believe  any  rumour  of  the 
kind.  In  her  destined  daughter-in-law,  she  beheld 
a  former  rival;  and  such  being  the  case,  how 
could  she  countenance  the  marriage  of  her  son  ? 


88  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

All  the  influence,  therefore,  which  Eleanor  possessed, 
was  employed  against  Adelais,  and  for  Berengaria. 
Richard  was  overjoyed  to  find  his  wishes  thus  se- 
conded by  his  mother,  and  despatched  her  to  Guienne 
to  negociate  the  alliance.  No  obstacles  were 
thrown  in  the  way  by  the  family  of  Navarre,  who 
were  delighted  with  the  prospect  of  so  powerful  a 
connexion  ;  and  Eleanor  along  with  Berengaria 
journeyed  to  Naples,  from  which  place,  having  sent 
intelligence  of  their  arrival,  they  were  conveyed  by 
Richard's  orders  to  Brindisi,  where  they  would  be 
better  accommodated  than  at  Messina,  and  where,  by 
the  orders  of  Tancred,  they  were  received  with  all 
possible  honour. 

Richard  now  determined  to  pay  a  personal  visit  to 
•the  king  of  Sicily,  whom,  in  respect  of  the  late 
treaty,  he  considered  as  an  intimate  ally,  and  accord- 
ingly waited  upon  him  at  Catanea,  where  he  met 
with  a  cordial  reception.  The  monarchs  exchanged 
splendid  gifts.  Richard  presented  Tancred  with 
Caliburne,  the  famous  sword  of  king  Arthur  ;  and 
during  this  visit,  which  lasted  for  several  days,  they 
became  so  attached  to  each  other,  that  they  spoke 
without  reserve  of  the  late  events,  and  of  the  part 
which  the  French  king  had  taken  in  the  affair  of 
Messina.  To  the  inexpressible  surprise  of  Richard, 
Tancred  produced  a  letter  from  Philip,  which  he 
affirmed  had  been  given  to  him  by  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, wherein  the  writer  asserted  that,  from  his 
knowledge,  he  could  aver  that  the  king  of  England  was 
faithless  and  a  traitor,  and  would  not  keep  the  treaty 
which  he  had  made  with  the  Sicilian  monarch.  That 
if  Tancred  would  fall  upon  Richard  either  openly 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  89 

or  by  a  night  attack,  the  French  would  give  him 
every  assistance  in  their  power,  and  help  to  drive 
the  English  from  the  island.  "  I  neither  am,  nor 
have  been,  nor  will  be  a  traitor,"  said  Richard,  when 
lie  had  finished  the  perusal  of  this  extraordinary 
epistle,  "  and  so  help  me  God  as  I  have  not  in- 
fringed one  article  of  the  treaty  I  have  made  with 
you,  nor  will  I  do  so  as  long  as  I  live.  But  it  almost 
passes  belief  that  the  king  of  France  could  write 
such  slanders  of  me,  seeing  that  he  is  not  only  my 
feudal  lord,  but  the  sworn  companion  of  my  pilgri- 
mage." "  That  letter,"  replied  Tancred,  "  which  I 
have  placed  in  your  hands,  was  delivered  to  me  by 
the  duke  of  Burgundy ;  and  if  the  duke  should  be 
base  enough  to  deny  it,  I  am  ready,  through  my 
champion,  to  prove  the  falsehood  on  his  head."  With 
consent  of  Tancred,  Richard  retained  the  letter,  and 
the  kings  shortly  afterwards  parted  with  professions 
of  unalterable  regard*. 

When  Richard  and  Philip  again  met  at  Messina, 
the  countenance  of  the  former  was  altered.  He  no 
longer  greeted  his  comrade  with  cordiality,  or  even 
common  politeness,  but  took  every  means  of  prevent- 
ing further  communication  between  his  army  and 
the  French.  Philip  suspecting  the  cause  of  this  es- 
trangement, but  ignorant  of  the  extent  of  Richard's 
knowledge,  despatched  the  count  of  Flanders  to 
inquire  what  reason  the  king  of  England  could  allege 
for  treating  him  in  so  uncourteous  a  manner.  To 
this  Richard  replied  by  repeating  the  conversation 
he  had  held  with  Tancred,  and  showed  the  count  the 
letter  under  Philip's  own  seal.  The  French  king, 
*  Hoveden. 


90  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

•when  this  reply  was  announced  to  him  appeared 
exceedingly  confounded,  but  soon  recovering  himself, 
said  to  the  count  of  Flanders,  "  This  convinces  me 
that  the  king  of  England  wishes  to  malign  me,  for 
that  letter  of  his  is  false  and  forged.  I  never  wrote 
any  such.  And  I  believe  further,  that  he  has  got 
up  this  accusation  against  me,  for  the  purpose  of 
deserting  my  sister  Adelais,  whom  I  hear  that  he  has 
sworn  he  will  never  marry.  But  let  him  beware, 
for  I  certify  him  that  if  he  leave  her  and  take  another, 
I  will  be  his  implacable  enemy  for  ever."  This  having 
been  reported  to  Richard,  he  replied,  that  no  consi- 
deration on  earth  should  force  him  to  marry  Adelais, 
by  reason  of  her  connexion  with  his  father,  to  whom 
she  had  born  a  son ;  which  fact  he  was  ready  to  estab- 
lish that  instant,  by  numerous  and  credible  witnesses. 
It  appears  that  Philip  was  staggered  by  this  assertion, 
perhaps  indeed  he  was  already  aware  of  its  truth, 
for,  by  the  advice  of  the  count  of  Flanders,  and 
others  in  whose  judgment  he  could  place  implicit 
reliance,  he  consented  that  all  the  arrangements  re- 
garding Adelais  should  be  held  null  and  void,  on 
condition  that  Richard  should  pay  the  sum  of  two 
thousand  marks  sterling,  yearly,  for  the  period  of 
five  years,  and  restore  Gisors  and  the  other  places 
which  had  been  ceded  to  him  as  the  portion  of  the 
princess.  It  was  further  agreed,  that  the  duchy  of 
Bretagne  should  in  future  be  a  fief  of  Normandy, 
and  that  the  duke  of  Normandy  should  do  homage 
to  the  king  of  France  for  both  territories.  Richard 
presently  advanced  one  year's  instalment  by  way  of 
redemption-money;  and  the  treaty  being  signed  and 
sealed,  Richard  was  declared  free,  and  at  liberty  to 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  91 

marry  whomsoever  he  pleased.  As  for  Adelais,  in 
whose  frailty  we  are  reluctantly  compelled  to  believe, 
she  afterwards  married  William,  count  of  Ponthieu, 
who,  singularly  enough,  was  one  of  the  hostages  of- 
fered by  Philip  for  his  observance  of  the  articles. 

In  the  month  of  March  1191,  Philip  set  sail  from 
Messina  for  the  Holy  Land.  Richard  neither  wished 
nor  offered  to  accompany  him.  After  what  had 
passed  they  could  no  longer  be  true  companions, 
neither  was  it  worth  their  while  to  carry  the  mask  of 
intimate  friendship.  When  Philip  was  gone,  Richard 
brought  his  mother  and  the  beautiful  Berengaria  to 
Messina,  and  remained  there  until  he  had  collected 
a  sufficient  number  of  vessels  to  transport  his  forces 
and  the  munitions  of  war.  These  being  at  last 
procured,  he  took  an  affectionate  farewell  of  his 
mother,  who  returned  to  England,  and,  having 
previously  demolished  the  castle  of  Mategriffon,  set 
sail,  his  fleet  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  sail, 
fifty-two  galleys,  ten  ships  laden  with  provisions,  and 
a  number  of  smaller  craft.  On  board  one  of  the 
larger  vessels,  called  a  buschia  or  buza,  were  his 
sister  Joan  and  the  princess  Berengaria  ;  he  himself 
sailed  in  another  vessel.  For  some  days  the  fleet 
proceeded  with  a  prosperous  wind,  but  after  they 
had  passed  Crete  a  furious  tempest  arose,  which 
separated  the  vessels  and  drove  them  in  different 
directions.  Richard  put  into  Rhodes,  where  he 
waited  for  some  days  in  great  anxiety  regarding  the 
fate  of  his  other  ships.  At  last,  one  of  the  fast- 
sailing  craft  which  he  had  despatched  to  scour  the 
seas  in  search  of  the  rest,  returned,  and  brought  him 
the  unwelcome  intelligence,  that  three  of  his  largest 


92  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

ships  were  stranded  on  the  •  coast  of  Cyprus,  and 
that  the  buza  which  conveyed  his  sister  and  bride 
had  sustained  considerable  damage,  and  was  lying 
off  Limesol,  her  entry  into  that  harbour  having  been 
delayed  for  reasons  which  we  shall  presently  relate. 
Cyprus  was  at  that  time  governed  by  Isaac,  a 
prince  of  the  house  of  Comnenus  and  a  usurper,  who 
united  in  his  character  all  the  mean  and  despicable 
traits  that  rendered  the  name  of  Greek,  during  the 
crusades,  a  term  of  infamy  and  reproach.  Although 
so  nearly  situated  to  Palestine,  and  therefore  liable 
to  invasion  from  the  Saracens,  the  Cypriots  had 
never  taken  any  part  in  the  Holy  Wars ;  indeed 
they  were  nothing  more  than  a  race  of  rude  barba- 
rians, far  inferior  in  civilization  to  the  Turks,  and 
ready  to  plunder  all  whom  accident  might  drive  on 
the  shores  of  their  alluring  island.  As  we  have 
already  said,  three  of  Richard's  largest  vessels  were 
wrecked  off  the  coast,  and  numbers  of  the  soldiers 
drowned  in  attempting  to  make  their  way  to  land. 
Those  who  escaped  were  received  by  the  inhabitants 
with  great  professions  of  friendship,  and  led  into  a 
neighbouring  castle,  where  they  were  deprived  of 
their  armour  and  imprisoned,  under  the  pretext 
that  they  could  not  be  allowed  to  go  at  liberty 
until  the  will  of  the  emperor,  whom  the  natives 
represented  as  the  most  benevolent  of  men,  could 
be  ascertained.  In  the  meantime  the  storm  had 
abated,  and  the  captain  of  another  ship  which  had 
ridden  it  out,  sent  large  supplies  of  provisions  ashore 
for  the  use  of  his  unfortunate  comrades.  These 
were  instantly  appropriated  by  the  Cypriots,  who 
kept  the  English  immured  in  the  castle  without 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  93 

giving  them  the  bare  means  of  subsistence,  until, 
seeing  that  nothing  but  a  lingering  death  awaited 
them,  the  soldiers  made  a  desperate  attempt,  in 
which  they  were  so  far  successful  as  to  burst  open 
the  doors,  overpower  the  guard,  and  reach  the  open 
country.  They  had  no  weapons  save  a  few  bows 
and  daggers,  which  they  had  managed  to  conceal, 
but  with  these  they  kept  the  Cypriots,  who  now 
mustered  in  great  numbers,  at  bay,  and  made  their 
way  to  the  harbour  of  Limesol,  where  they  found 
the  crew  of  another  vessel  scuffling  with  the  inhabit- 
ants. The  English  at  last  beat  off  their  opponents, 
and  established  themselves  on  the  shore.  All  this 
while  the  buza  which  contained  queen  Joan  and 
Berengaria  was  lying  at  a  short  distance ;  but  the 
crew  being  ignorant  of  the  country,  and  suspicious 
of  its  inhabitants,  had  not  ventured  to  disembark, 
although  the  vessel  was  much  shattered  and  in 
urgent  need  of  repair. 

Next  day  the  emperor  Isaac  appeared  in  person, 
and  held  a  long  colloquy  with  the  sailors  who  had 
landed.  He  appeared  very  reasonable  and  mild  in 
his  professions,  excused  the  conduct  of  the  islanders 
on  account  of  their  ignorance,  and  promised  that 
all  the  arms  and  stores  which  had  been  taken  should 
be  restored.  He  also  gave  the  English  full  liberty 
to  enter  Limesol,  and  furnished  them  with  provi- 
sions and  wine,  which  were  eagerly  accepted.  The 
unwary  crusaders  thus  suffered  themselves  to  be 
inveigled  into  the  city,  where,  suspecting  no  treach- 
ery, they  were  surrounded  and  secured.  The  crafty 
Greek  next  attempted  to  get  the  princesses  into  his 
power,  and  for  that  purpose  solicited  them  earnestly 


94  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

to  land.  Certain  circumstances,  however,  had  ren- 
dered them  doubtful  of  his  honour.  The  sudden 
disappearance  of  the  English  from  the  harbour  was,  to 
say  the  least,  suspicious ;  and  weather-beaten  as  they 
were,  they  preferred  to  remain  in  their  vessel,  rather 
than  place  themselves  in  the  hands  of  a  man  whose 
reputation  was  far  from  creditable.  Still,  lest  he 
should  be  inclined  to  enforce  his  request  by  other 
means  than  mere  solicitation,  they  deemed  it  pru- 
dent to  dissemble,  and  to  flatter  him  with  the  hope 
that  they  would  presently  accept  his  invitation  ;  in 
the  interval  they  expected  with  much  anxiety 
the  arrival  of  Richard,  and  in  fact  were  soon  relieved 
by  beholding  the  approach  of  the  fleet,  which  had 
again  collected  at  Rhodes. 

As  soon  as  Richard  was  made  acquainted  with 
the  injuries  which  his  men  had  sustained  on  shore, 
he  sent  a  messenger  to  the  emperor,  demanding  the 
restitution  of  their  persons,  and  of  all  the  arms  and 
stores  which  had  been  taken  from  them,  and  from 
the  stranded  vessels.  To  this,  Isaac  replied  with 
much  insolence,  that  he  cared  nothing  for  the  cru- 
saders, and  had  no  common  cause  with  them  ;  that 
he  had  seized  the  persons  and  property  of  the  English 
as  intruders  upon  his  island,  and  would  keep  them 
until  ransomed;  and  further  he  threatened,  if  Richard 
should  venture  to  disembark,  to  treat  him  in  the 
same  manner.  A  far  more  qualified  defiance  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  rouse  the  blood  of  Planta- 
genet.  Richard  ordered  his  men  to  arm  themselves, 
and  filling  all  the  boats  belonging  to  the  fleet  with 
troops,  advanced  towards  the  harbour.  Isaac,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  prepared  for  the  attack.  Squad- 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  95 

rons  of  cavalry  appeared  on  the  shore  to  oppose  the 
landing  of  the  English  ;  a  number  of  boats  well 
manned  were  sent  out  of  the  harbour  to  cope  with 
them  at  sea  ;  whilst  on  the  pier  and  bulwarks,  clouds 
of  archers  and  cross-bow  men  were  stationed,  who 
poured  their  shot  into  the  midst  of  the  advancing 
crusaders.  Nothing,  however,  could  withstand  the 
impetuosity  of  Richard.  The  boats  of  the  Cypriots 
were  taken,  and  those  who  manned  them  thrown 
into  the  sea ;  the  missiles  from  the  land  were  repaid 
with  showers  of  arrows  from  the  English  bowmen, 
the  most  expert  archers  of  the  world ;  and  as  soon  as 
the  boats  arrived  in  shallow  water,  Richard  leaped 
into  the  surf,  and,  calling  on  his  men  to  follow  him, 
threw  himself  into  the  midst  of  the  Cypriot  cavalry, 
and  was  instantly  surrounded.  But  the  first  few 
blows  dealt  by  the  herculean  arm  of  Coaur-de-Lion 
made  the  boldest  of  his  assailants  recoil  in  dismay, 
and  well  and  powerfully  was  he  seconded  by  his 
noble  English  followers.  The  king  seized  the  bridle 
of  a  horse  whose  rider  he  had  hurled  to  the  ground, 
and  vaulting  into  the  seat,  dashed  into  the  thickest 
of  the  press,  where  the  emperor  Isaac  was  conspicuous 
by  his  gilded  armour  and  royal  insignia.  "  What 
ho  !  lord  emperor  !"  shouted  Richard,  "  come  if  thou 
darest  and  meet  me  hand  to  hand."  But  Isaac  was 
no  match  for  him  in  personal  prowess,  and  set  the 
example  of  flight  to  his  troops,  by  turning  the  rein. 
The  Cypriots  were  first  driven  into  the  town  of 
Limesol,  where  they  endeavoured  to  maintain  them- 
selves, but  the  gates  were  speedily  burst  open ;  and 
as  the  English  entered  the  town  the  natives  escaped 
by  the  other  side.  In  Limesol  the  conquerors  found 


96  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OF 

great  store  of  provision,  and  every  other  necessary 
of  which  they  stood  in  need  after  their  precarious 
voyage.  Richard,  whose  enterprise  and  ambition 
were  alike  gratified  by  so  unexpected  a  conquest, 
was  in  no  haste  to  pursue  his  journey,  but  deter- 
mined to  remain  awhile  for  the  purpose  of  refitting, 
trusting  also  that  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of 
indulging  further  his  passion  for  military  exploits. 
Accordingly  on  the  next  day,  the  queen  of  Sicily  and 
the  princess  of  Navarre  landed,  and  Richard  then 
caused  the  horses  on  board  his  ships  to  be  disem- 
barked, remarking  that  a  true  knight  could  never 
fight  so  well  on  foot  as  in  the  saddle.  The  poor 
animals  had  been  sadly  shaken  by  the  tempest,-and 
were  in  much  need  of  rest,  nevertheless  Richard, 
who  had  not  settled  down  from  his  yesterday's 
adventure,  selected  fifty  of  the  strongest,  and  order- 
ing his  best  knights  to  mount  and  follow  him,  rode 
away  into  the  country  in  search  of  further  adventure. 
It  so  happened  that  the  emperor  Isaac,  having 
remarked  that  the  crusaders  were  all  on  foot,  was 
less  afraid  of  their  advance,  and  had  pitched  his 
camp  in  a  valley  not  more  than  five  miles  distant  from 
Limesol,  where  he  waited  for  further  reinforcements, 
confidently  expecting  in  a  few  days  to  be  enabled 
to  blockade  the  English  in  the  city,  if  not  to  compel 
them  to  abandon  the  island.  From  this  camp  he 
sent  out  scouts  in  all  directions,  some  to  raise  the 
inhabitants  of  the  more  distant  parts  of  Cyprus,  and 
some  to  watch  the  progress  and  movements  of  the 
enemy.  A  large  body  of  cavalry  despatched  on  the 
latter  service  advanced  as  far  as  an  olive  wood,  at 
no  distance  from  Limesol,  and  seeing  none  of  the 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  97 

English  abroad,  save  a  small  body  of  horsemen 
pacing  leisurely  along  the  plain,  thought  fit  to  ex- 
press their  contempt  of  the  crusaders,  by  sounding 
a  challenge  with  their  martial  music,  and  displaying 
the  banner  of  the  emperor.  Never  was  a  challenge 
more  readily  accepted.  The  horsemen,  who  were  no 
other  than  Richard  and  his  knights,  instantly  halted, 
faced  about,  and  descrying  the  enemy,  set  spurs  to 
their  steeds  and  bore  down  towards  them.  The 
Cypriots,  whose  defiance  was  mere  bravado,  and  who 
remembered  well  the  terrible  lesson  which  the  expe- 
rience of  the  previous  day  had  taught  them,  had  not 
the  temerity  to  wait  the  onset,  but  fled  precipitately 
towards  their  camp,  closely  followed  by  the  knights. 
At  last  Richard  arrived  at  the  brow  of  an  eminence, 
down  which  the  fugitives  had  galloped,  and  beheld 
in  the  plain  beneath  the  camp  of  the  Greeks  spread 
out  on  the  borders  of  a  winding  stream,  and  an 
immense  multitude  of  people  moving  to  and  fro. 
These,  as  soon  as  they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  hos- 
tile apparition,  raised  a  terrible  clamour,  and  throw- 
ing themselves  upon  horseback  advanced  within 
bowshot  of  the  knights,  and  discharged  a  shower  of 
stones  and  arrows  against  them.  Some  of  Richard's 
followers  proposed  advancing  to  the  charge,  others 
considering  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the  Cypri- 
ots, thought  it  would  be  no  shame  to  retire  ;  their 
spokesman  was  a  warlike  clerk,  Hugo  de  Mara  by 
name,  to  whose  remonstrances  the  king  replied, 
"  Sir  Clerk,  we  soldiers  meddle  not  with  your  pro- 
fession, neither  do  we  presume  to  interpret  the  Scrip- 
tures. I  pray  you  do  likewise,  and  suffer  us  to  deal 
with  yon  rabble  as  we  see  fit."  Further  advice  only 
H 


98  .THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

served  to  confirm  the  obstinacy  of  Richard,  who 
laughed  to  scorn  the  fears  of  his  followers,  and 
desiring  them  all  to  follow  him,  galloped  straight 
towards  the  enemy.  The  Cypriots  appalled  by  his 
temerity  gave  way ;  every  knight  followed  the  exam- 
ple of  his  leader,  and  scattered  the  enemy  like  chafi' 
before  the  wind.  A  thrust  from  Richard's  lance 
brought  the  emperor  to  the  ground,  but  his  attendants 
rushed  hastily  in,  and  mounting  him  on  another 
horse,  led  him  from  the  field  of  battle.  His  retreat 
was  the  signal  for  a  general  flight.  The  barbarians 
fled  with  precipitation  from  the  blows  of  these  war- 
riors, who,  cased  in  complete  steel,  appeared  to  them 
invulnerable,  and  in  their  rout  they  flung  away  hel- 
mets, swords,  lances,  and  even  the  banners  which 
they  carried  ;  nor  did  they  consider  themselves  safe 
until  lodged  amongst  the  fastnesses  of  the  neighbour- 
ing mountains.  The  camp  with  all  the  stores  it  con- 
tained, which  were  immensely  valuable,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Richard,  who,  sending  for  assistance  to  the 
city,  returned  to  bis  sister  and  bride  the  victor  in 
as  unequal  a  contest  as  was  ever  waged.  Indeed 
the  credibility  of  the  story  might  be  questioned,  if 
we  received  it  upon  less  accurate  authority,  than  the 
narrative  of  one  who  accompanied  Richard  on  his 
eventful  voyage  *. 

"We  shall  continue  the  history  of  Richard's  warlike 
achievements  in  Cyprus,  before  adverting  to  other 
important  matters  which  occurred  during  his  stay  in 
that  island.  It  was  the  intention  of  the  king,  with- 
out listening  to  the  overtures  which  the  emperor, 

*  Vinesauf. — Hoveden's  account  differs  so  far,  that  he  calls  this  a 
midnight  attack. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  99 

now  terrified  lest  his  kingdom  should  be  wrested 
from  him,  repeatedly  made,  to  penetrate  into  the 
interior,  and  if  possible  to  seize  the  person  of  Isaac ; 
but  the  Grand  Master  of  the  Hospitallers,  jealous  of 
the  delay  which  would  thus  befall  the  great  objects 
of  the  crusade,  interposed,  and  succeeded  in  effecting 
a  conference  between  the  hostile  monarchs.  They 
met  on  a  plain  near  Limesol,  and  after  some  discus- 
sion it  was  agreed  that  Isaac  should  swear  fidelity 
to  Richard,  and  should  accompany  him  to  the  Holy 
Land  with  five  hundred  cavaliers ;  that  he  should 
pay  three  thousand  five  hundred  marks  in  satisfaction 
of  the  stores  and  arms  taken  from  the  stranded  ves- 
sels, and  should  besides  deliver  over  his  castles  and 
places  of  strength  to  the  custody  of  the  king,  as  a 
pledge  for  his  performance  of  the  above  articles,  on 
the  understanding  that  the  same  should  be  restored 
to  him  on  the  accomplishment  of  the  crusade. 
Scarcely,  however,  were  these  conditions  agreed 
upon,  when  the  emperor,  being  instigated  thereto 
by  one  of  his  generals  named  Caiphas,  who  assured 
him  that  Richard  only  waited  for  an  opportunity  to 
cast  him  into  prison,  fled  to  Famagosta  ;  whereupon 
Richard,  entrusting  his  army  to  the  gviidance  of 
Guy  of  Lusignan,  who  had  just  arrived  from  the 
crusaders'  camp  at  Acre  with  directions  to  proceed 
straight  by  land  and  invest  that  city,  took  four  galleys, 
and  sailing  round  the  island  blockaded  the  mouth  of 
the  harbour,  trusting  thus  to  secure  the  person  of 
the  emperor,  should  he  attempt  to  escape  either  by 
land  or  sea.  Whilst  thus  engaged  three  new  mes- 
sengers from  the  Holy  Land  arrived,  and  entreated 
Richard  to  forego  his  conquests  in  Cyprus,  and  to 
H  2 


100  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OF 

hasten  with  all  despatch  to  the  relief  of  the  Christian 
army  before  Acre,  which  they  represented  as  in  a 
state  of  the  utmost  distress.  Richard  replied  sourly 
that  he  was  the  best  judge  of  his  own  affairs,  and 
needed  not  the  advice  of  his  brother  of  France,  at 
whose  instigation  this  embassy  was  evidently  sent. 
Guy  of  Lusignan  now  arrived  at  Famagosta,  but 
found  it  deserted,  the  emperor  having  retired  inland 
on  being  advertised  of  his  intention.  Richard  im- 
mediately landed  and  advanced  towards  Nicosia, 
where  the  inhabitants  yielded  without  resistance, 
and  came  out  in  procession  to  meet  the  conqueror. 
Richard  accepted  their  submission,  and  exacted  no 
other  penalty  from  them  than  that  of  shaving  their 
beards,  in  token  that  they  had  now  transferred  their 
allegiance  to  another  master.  Isaac  in  the  mean 
time  had  retired  to  the  almost  inaccessible  castle  of 
Candaira,  where  he  remained  in  stupified  despair ; 
having  thus  seen,  in  the  space  of  fifteen  days,  his 
kingdom  wrested  from  him,  and  being  conscious 
moreover,  that  his  own  treachery  was  the  sole  cause 
of  these  disasters.  Guy  de  Lusignan  advancing  at 
the  head  of  a  division  of  the  army,  reduced  in  suc- 
cession three  castles,  in  one  of  which  was  the  young 
and  beautiful  daughter  of  the  emperor,  the  creature 
on  earth  whom  he  loved  the  most,  and  whose  loss 
completely  subdued  whatever  of  his  courage  re- 
mained. Humbled  and  dejected,  he  left  his  retreat 
of  Candaira  and  came  before  Richard  in  the  guise  of 
a  suppliant ;  he  threw  himself  at  his  conqueror's  feet, 
abandoned  to  him  all  that  he  possessed,  beseeching 
him  only  that  he  would  not  load  him  with  iron  fetters. 
Richard  beheld  this  miserable  spectacle  of  forced 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  101 

humiliation  with  hearty  contempt,  hut  also  with 
some  pity.  He  raised  Isaac  from  the  ground  and 
allowed  him  an  interview  with  his  daughter,  at 
sight  of  whom  the  fallen  emperor  manifested  the 
most  lively  emotion,  folding  her  in  his  arms,  and 
shedding  tears  of  joy.  The  further  fate  of  Isaac  is 
well  known.  He  was  bound  with  chains  of  silver, 
and  confined  in  a  castle  on  the  sea-shore  of  Palestine, 
where  he  died,  about  four  years  afterwards.  His 
daughter  was  given  as  an  attendant  to  queen  Beren- 
garia,  and  in  that  capacity  accompanied  her  to 
England,  after  the  expiry  of  the  crusade. 

The  arrival  of  Guy  of  Lusignan  in  Cyprus  was 
owing  to  the  following  circumstances.  A  keen 
contest  for  the  crown  of  Jerusalem,  at  that  time  an 
empty  honour,  was  carried  on  between  Guy,  and 
Conrad,  marquis  of  Montferrat.  The  details  of  this 
quarrel  will  be  found  hereafter  more  fully  narrated, 
in  this  place  we  shall  only  say  that  the  party  of  Guy 
was  the  weakest,  and  that  the  king  of  France  had 
warmly  espoused  the  cause  of  his  rival.  This  last 
circumstance  was  of  itself  sufficient  to  recommend 
Guy  to  the  protection  of  Richard,  who  declared  him- 
self at  once  of  his  party,  and  presented  him  with  two 
thousand  marks  and  other  articles  of  value.  In 
thus  precipitately  pledging  himself  to  support  one 
claimant  in  a  dispute  the  merits  of  which  were  only 
partially  known  to  him,  Richard  doubtless  acted  with 
the  greatest  imprudence,  for  judging  of  the  two 
candidates  by  their  personal  qualifications  alone, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Conrad  was  in  every 
way  superior  to  Guy,  whose  principal  claim  to  the 
crown  was,  that  he  had  already  lost  his  kingdom. 


102  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

Immediately  after  the  conquest  of  Limesol  Richard 
concluded  his  nuptials  with  Berengaria,  a  very  ami- 
able princess,  and  one  every  way  worthy  of  so  high 
a  destiny,  and  on  the  same  day  she  was  crowned  by 
the  bishop  of  Evreux.  The  ceremony  was  just  over 
.when  Richard  received  the  joyful  news  that  all  his 
remaining  ships,  which  had  been  scattered  by  the 
tempest,  had  entered  the  harbour  safe  and  undamaged. 
Nothing  now  remained  for  him  but  to  take  order 
for  the  preservation  of  his  conquests,  which  he  did 
by  committing  the  island  of  Cyprus  to  the  charge  of 
Richard  de  Camville,  and  Robert  de  Turnham  ;  and 
weighing  anchor,  with  a  fair  wind  he  set  sail  for 
Acre.  While  at  Cyprus,  a  rumour  had  reached 
him  that  this  city  was  already  taken,  which  caused 
him  much  vexation,  for  he  felt  as  if  his  absence  at 
the  issue  of  the  siege  had  been  a  stain  upon  his 
renown,  and  he  therefore  proceeded  with  more  dili- 
gence lest  other  successes  should  crown  the  arms  of 
the  Christians  before  his  arrival.  Crossing,  there- 
fore, the  narrow  sea  which  divides  Cyprus  from 
Palestine,  his  fleet  came  in  sight  of  Tortosa,  and 
bearing  southward,  they  passed  the  towns  of  Tripoli, 
Biblos,  and  Beritus,  places  which  the  English  had 
often  heard  mentioned  by  pilgrims  returning  from 
the  holy  wars,  and  which  they  now  gazed  upon 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  veneration.  Ruunding  the 
promontory  of  Sidon,  they  discovered  a  huge  vessel 
lying  off  the  shore,  which  proved  to  be  a  Saracen 
trireme,  despatched  by  Saladin  to  carry  stores  into 
Acre,  as  that  town  was  besieged  from  the  landward 
side.  She  was  waiting  for  a  favourable  opportunity 
to  put  into  the  harbour,  a  matter  of  no  small  ditfi- 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  103 

culty,  since  the  ships  of  Tyre  belonging  to  the 
marquis  were  constantly  plying  along  the  coast ; 
and  her  cargo  is  said  to  have  consisted  of  a  hun- 
dred camels-load  of  arms,  warlike  engines,  crossbows, 
bows,  bolts,  and  arrows,  with  jars  filled  with  Greek 
fire,  (a  most  dangerous  composition  which  no  water 
could  extinguish,)  and  two  hundred  venomous  ser- 
pents inclosed  in  glass  bottles,  which  were  intended 
to  be  thrown  into  the  Christian  camp.  On  board 
this  vessel  also,  were  seven  of  the  Turkish  emirs, 
and  about  eighty  of  the  noblest  Saracens,  who  were 
specially  despatched  to  undertake  the  defence  of  the 
city ;  so  that  the  capture  of  the  ship  became  an 
object  of  the  highest  importance  to  the  Christians. 
When  first  hailed,  those  on  board  of  her,  perceiving 
the  character  of  Richard's  armament,  replied  that 
she  belonged  to  the  king  of  France,  but  the  language 
and  tone  of  the  answer  persuaded  Richard  of  the 
falsehood.  Being  hailed  again,  they  replied  that 
they  were  Genoese  bound  for  Tyre  ;  but  showing  no 
colours  or  proof  of  their  country,  the  truth  became 
apparent  to  all,  and  a  swift  galley  was  sent  with" 
orders  to  board.  No  sooner  did  she  approach  the 
Saracen  ship,  than  such  an  overwhelming  shower  of 
stones  and  darts  was  launched  at  the  crew,  that  they 
were  forced  to  lie  upon  their  oars,  and  keep  at  a  re- 
spectful distance  from  the  trireme,  which  now  began 
to  move  away  with  great  rapidity,  by  aid  of  her  oars, 
although  the  wind  was  almost  down.  Richard 
ordered  his  own  ship  to  be  pushed  close  to  her,  but 
again  the  missiles  of  the  Saracens  were  thrown  with 
such  deadly  effect,  that  the  rowers  had  not  courage  to 
keep  their  places,  but  were  fain  to  shelter  themselves 


104  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

from  the  iron  shower.  Nor  could  the  English  bow- 
inen  shoot  with  much  prejudice  to  the  enemy,  as 
the  trireme  was  far  higher  than  any  of  the  galleys, 
and  was  besides  furnished  with  bulwarks,  which 
effectually  protected  her  crew.  In  this  way  the 
skirmish  lasted  for  some  time,  and  it  became  evident 
that  the  trireme  was  fast  leaving  its  pursuers. 
"  What !  "  cried  Richard,  "  will  you  suffer  that  ship 
to  go  away  unharmed  ?  Knaves,  if  you  do,  you  de- 
serve all  of  you  to  be  nailed  to  the  cross. — Shame 
on  ye,  make  another  effort,  and  if  we  take  her,  all 
the  treasure  she  contains  shall  be  yours."  These 
words  so  animated  the  rowers  that  they  again  made 
up  to  the  trireme,  and  some  of  the  sailors  leaping 
overboard,  passed  ropes  round  her  rudder,  so  as 
to  divert  her  from  her  course ;  others  by  aid  of 
ropes  clambered  on  board,  but  these  were  instantly 
despatched  by  the  Turks,  who  fought  with  great 
gallantry,  and  though  surrounded  evinced  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  yielding.  Twice  were  they 
boarded,  and  twice  were  the  assailants  repelled ;  at 
last  Richard,  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  his  fleet,  as  the 
Saracens  now  began  to  use  the  Greek  fire,  ordered 
some  galleys  to  strike  the  trireme  with  the  iron  beak 
or  rostrum  which  those  vessels  carried  at  their  prow. 
His  commands  were  obeyed.  The  galleys  being 
removed  to  some  distance  to  increase  the  force  of  the 
shock,  were  impelled  against  the  sides  of  the  trireme 
with  all  the  force  that  the  rowers  could  exert.  Her 
timbers,  though  strong,  could  not  sustain  the  concus- 
sion, and  she  began  gradually  to  settle  down.  The 
Turks,  who  until  the  very  last  moment  had  continued 
to  defend  themselves  bravely,  now  leaped  into  the  sea, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  105 

where  numbers  of  them  were  drowned  or  killed  ; 
mercy  towards  a  vanquished  enemy  being  hardly 
considered  as  a  virtue  by  the  most  Christian  crusaders. 
Thirty-five  only  of  the  emirs  and  principal  engi- 
neers were  saved  out  of  nearly  fifteen  hundred  picked 
men,  whom  Saladin  had  selected  for  the  relief  of 
Acre.*  That  night  the  English  fleet  anchored  off 
Tyre,  and  next  day,  the  wind  being  again  favourable, 
they  reached  Acre,  and  beheld  with  eager  wonder 
the  strong  towers  and  defences  of  that  city,  the  camp 
of  the  surrounding  Christians,  and  beyond  them  at 
a  greater  distance,  the  glittering  tents  and  waving 
banners  of  the  mighty  army  of  Saladin. 

*  I  have  here  stated  the  crew  of  the  Turkish  vessel  at  the  highest 
estimate,  which  is  that  of  Hoveden.  Bohadin,  the  Arabian  historian, 
gives  us  the  more  probable  number  of  six  hundred  and  fifty  ;  and 
adds,  moreover,  that  the  Saracens,  despairing  of  escape,  sunk  their 
own  vessel.  I  have,  however,  followed  Vinesauf  in  the  foregoing 
account  of  this  remarkable  naval  combat. 


106  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 


CHAPTER  V. 

State  of  Palestine  after  the  first  Crusade — Hostility  of  the  Turks 
—  Capture  of  Edessa  by  Noureddin — The  Second  Crusade 
preached  by  Saint  Bernard  —  Expedition  of  Louis  VII.  and 
the  Emperor  Conrad  III. — Misfortunes  of  the  Germans,  and 
Treachery  of  the  Greek  Emperor,  Manuel — Great  Defeat  of  the 
Germans  in  Cappadocia — Arrival  of  the  French  in  Asia — Passage 
of  the  Maeander — Battle  of  Laodicea — Arrival  of  the  Crusaders 
in  Palestine — Siege  of  Damascus — Dissentions  among  the  Syrian 
Nobles — Return  of  the  Crusaders — Military  Orders  of  Knight- 
hood— The  Hospitallers — The  Templars — Antioch  attacked  by 
Noureddin — Death  of  Baldwin  III. — Amaury's  Egyptian  Expe- 
dition— Shiracouch  and  Saladin  despatched  to  Euypt — Defeat  of 
Amaury — Egypt  occupied  by  Saladiu  for  the  Caliph  of  Bagdat — 
Death  of  Noureddin  ;  of  Amaury — Baldwin  IV.  and  V. — Guy 
de  Lusignan  elected  King  of  Jerusalem  —  Quarrel  with  Count 
Raymond,  of  Tripoli — Great  Preparations  by  Saladin-  for  the 
Invasion  of  the  Holy  Land. 

As  we  are  now  approaching  that  period  of  the 
history  of  Richard  which  is  most  interesting  to  the 
general  reader,  and  which  for  ages  past  has  been 
made  the  fertile  subject  of  romance  and  song,  it  is 
necessary,  in  order  to  comprehend  aright  the  origin 
of  the  third  crusade,  as  well  as  its  singular  conse- 
quences, that  we  should  give  some  account  of  the 
state  of  the  Latin  empire  in  the  East,  towards  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century.  A  hundred  years  had 
not  elapsed,  since  the  cross  of  Christ  was  planted  on 
the  walls  of  the  holy  city,  and  Godfrey  of  Bouillon, 
by  the  common  consent  of  the  first  crusaders,  was 
within  the  Church  of  the  Sepulchre  proclaimed  the 
first  king  of  Jerusalem.  Under  him  and  his  imme- 
diate successors,  the  newly  founded  kingdom  in- 
creased in  strength  and  prosperity.  Large  tracts  of 
territory  were  added  to  the  original  conquest,  the 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  107 

strongest  fortifications  and  towns,  long  considered  as 
impregnable,  were  wrested  from  the  hands  of  the 
Moslem,  and  the  whole  of  that  extensive  country 
which  ranges  between  Cilicia  and  the  Arabian  desert, 
was  parcelled  out  into  principalities  and  lordships, 
and  occupied  by  the  Christian  invaders.  The  king- 
dom of  Jerusalem  extended  from  the  town  of  Biblos 
to  Daruin,  on  the  Arabian  frontier,  and  was  incom- 
parably the  most  considerable  of  all  the  Latin  posses- 
sions, as  it  comprehended,  in  addition  to  the  holy 
city  and  its  dependencies,  the  important  counties 
of  Jaffa,  Ascalon,  Galilee,  and  Cesarea,  the  seaports 
of  Acre  and  Tyre,  with  numerous  inland  cities. 
Next  to  it  in  importance  was  the  principality  of 
Antioch,  possessed  by  the  descendants  of  the  warlike 
Tancred.  To  the  eastward  of  Antioch  lay  the  terri- 
tory of  Edessa,  stretching  across  the  Euphrates  into 
the  heart  of  Mesopotamia,  and  constituting  an  inde- 
pendent county  beneath  the  rule  of  the  noble  Cour- 
tenays.  The  county  of  Tripoli,  which  lay  between 
Antioch  and  Jerusalem,  was  the  smallest  of  these 
independent  states,  and  was  governed  by  the  de- 
scendants of  Raymond,  count  of  Thoulouse.  Into 
these  new  regions,  known  to  Europe  only  by  report, 
and  consequently  grossly  exaggerated  in  the  estimate 
of  their  wealth  and  productions,  thousands  of  the  dis- 
solute and  debauched,  whom  no  promises  of  heavenly 
favour,  no  priestly  injunction,  or  princely  entreaty, 
could  have  enlisted  in  the  cause  of  the  sepulchre, 
thronged  with  avidity  and  exultation.  The  soldier 
of  fortune,  the  proud  and  needy  baron,  who  could 
find  no  means  in  impoverished  Europe  to  satiate  his 
rapacity,  the  worthless  adventurer,  and  even  the 


108  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

speculative  merchant,  all  hastened,  with  the  eager- 
ness of  men  who  have  heard  of  a  discovered  treasure, 
to  that  glorious  country  where  lordships  were  meted 
out  to  the  first  who  would  take  possession,  and  where 
gold  as  well  as  glory  was  the  sure  guerdon  of  a 
blow.  Nor  were  they  altogether  disappointed  in 
their  expectations,  visionary  as  these  may  seem. 
The  new  rulers  of  Palestine,  however  rich  their 
blood  or  noble  their  pretension's  might  be,  were  in 
fact  nothing  more  than  adventurers  on  a  larger  scale, 
and  therefore  entertained  no  idle  scruples  as  to  the 
character  and  conduct  of  those  whom  they  retained 
in  their  service.  The  number  of  original  crusaders 
who  had  survived  the  hardships  and  terrible  devas- 
tation of  the  wars  was  so  small,  that  no  new-comer, 
who  brought  a  stout  heart  and  a  stalwart  arm  to  aid 
against  the  common  enemy,  stood  any  chance  of  re- 
jection. The  first  purpose  of  the  crusade  had  been 
accomplished — the  holy  sepulchre  was  freed  from 
the  thraldom  of  the  heathen,  and  so  far  all  was  well. 
The  pilgrim  from  the  West  might  now  approach  that 
sacred  shrine  without  the  fear  of  contumely  or  the 
degradation  of  tribute — the  penitent  might  suppli- 
cate forgiveness  of  his  crimes  at  that  spot  which,  of 
all  others  upon  earth,  was  deemed  the  most  vene- 
rable and  tlie  most  efficacious;  and  the  palmer  might 
unmolested  pluck  from  the  trees  by  the  banks  of  the 
Jordan,  the  green  memorial  of  his  journey,  to  form 
the  proudest  ornament  of  his  cottage  by  the  shores 
of  the  northern  sea — these  triumphs  might  satisfy 
the  monk,  but  they  could  not  satisfy  the  soldier. 
No  blaze  of  heavenly  glory  which  the  eloquence 
of  the  hermit  Peter,  or  the  other  preachers  of  the 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  109 

crusade,  had  conjured  up  to  his  vision,  was  bright 
or  lasting  enough  to  dull  his  eyes  to  those  temporal 
advantages  which  the  occupation  of  Palestine  pro- 
mised to  secure.  The  sepulchre  was  still  the  centre- 
point  and  talisman  of  the  whole,  but  it  had  now 
acquired  another  value  than  its  own  peculiar  sanctity 
— not  only  the  favour  of  Heaven,  but  the  riches  of 
earth  depended  upon  its  possession  and  defence. 

In  imitation  of  the  feudal  system  of  Europe,  the 
newly  acquired  territories  were  parcelled  out  into 
baronies,  and  distributed  amongst  the  original  cru- 
saders, and  those  who  were  willing  to  make  Pales- 
tine the  home  of  their  adoption.  The  principal 
cities  and  fortifications  were  otcupied  by  the  Chris- 
tians, but  owing  to  the  paucity  of  their  numbers, 
and  the  great  extent  of  the  conquered  country,  the 
rural  population  were  in  most  places  allowed  to 
remain  in  the  condition  of  serfs  of  the  soil.  This 
would  have  been  a  wise  arrangement,  and  would  in 
time  have  materially  contributed  to  strengthen  their 
power,  had  the  Christians  been  sufficiently  enlight- 
ened to  adopt  any  plan  by  which  the  interests  of  all 
classes  might  have  been  in  some  measure  identified. 
Nothing  of  this  kind  could  of  course  occur  to  men 
who,  even  at  home,  were  accustomed  to  a  state  of 
society  separated  only  by  the  influence  of  a  chival- 
rous spirit  from  a  state  of  utter  barbarism,  in  every 
matter  that  related  to  social  and  civil  policy.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  country  were  doubly  detestable 
in  their  eyes,  on  account  of  their  religious  tenets, 
and  we  have  ample  grounds  for  believing  that  the 
utmost  liberality  of  the  first  settlers  amounted  to  a 
bare  and  grudging  toleration.  On  all  occasions, 


110  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

therefore,  as  was  afterwards  shown  when  the  strug- 
gle between  Moslem  and  Christian  was  renewed,  the 
rural  population  of  Palestine  took  arms  against  their 
masters. 

Nor  were  the  warlike  Saracens  disposed  to  resign 
those  countries  which  they  had  held  so  long,  without 
a  struggle.  Hardly  a  year  passed  over  without 
some  attempt  on  their  part  to  regain  their  former 
ascendancy.  Godfrey  himself,  within  a  year  of  his 
election  to  the  throne,  repelled  with  some  difficulty 
a  vigorous  attack  made  by  Al-Aphdal,  the  former 
conqueror  of  Jerusalem.  Baldwin,  his  successor, 
was  driven  into  Ramula,  and  there  besieged  by  the 
Turks,  and  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  effecting 
his  escape.  Pontius,  the  second  count  of  Tripoli, 
was  taken  and  slain  by  the  Mussulmans;  and  Fulk, 
the  fourth  king  of  Jerusalem,  was  on  one  occasion 
conquered  by  the  sultan  of  Aleppo.  Added  to 
these  misfortunes,  inflicted  by  the  common  enemy, 
were  the  baleful  effects  of  internal  dissensions  perpe- 
tually prevailing  among  the  Christian  princes,  and 
rising  at  times  so  high  that  civil  war  was  actually 
proclaimed,  and  their  forces  were  mustered  against 
each  other.  They  also  suffered  much  from  the 
hostility  of  the  Greeks,  who  made  an  inroad  into 
Antioch,  and  showed  themselves  as  inveterate  if  not 
as  courageous  enemies  as  the  Moslems  themselves. 
But  the  greatest  scourge  of  all  was  Noureddin,  the 
powerful  sultan  of  Aleppo.  This  warrior,  whose 
reputation  may  vie  with  that  of  Saladin,  and  who 
occupies  a  most  conspicuous  place  in  the  histories 
of  the  period,  completed  the  conquest  of  Edessa, 
which  his  predecessor  Zenghis  had  begun,  and  thus 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  1]] 

by  breaking  the  eastern  line  of  the  Latin  frontier 
and  narrowing  the  northern  range,  the  Moslem 
acquired  an  advantage  which  promised  speedily  to 
be  followed  by  the  re-acquirement  of  the  whole 
kingdom  of  Syria.  No  sooner  was  the  news  of  this 
important  event,  and  the  threatening  attitude  as- 
sumed by  the  Saracens,  made  known  throughout 
Europe,  than  the  old  religious  spirit  was  roused 
again  with  fresh  force  and  fervour.  Ambassadors 
were  sent  from  the  clergy  and  nobles  of  the  Holy 
Land,  to  solicit  the  aid  of  their  western  brethren 
against  the  returning  power  of  the  infidel ;  the  voices 
of  the  pope  and  the  chief  potentates  of  the  church 
were  raised  to  back  the  appeal,  and  the  story  of 
their  misfortunes  was  everywhere  heard  with  sympa- 
thy, and  responded  to  by  vows  of  speedy  vengeance. 
Nor  were  instruments,  whose  efforts  in  those  days  of 
darkness  and  superstition  were  reverenced  as  direct 
inspirations  from  the  Deity,  wanting  to  forward  the 
cause.  As  the  eloquence  and  zeal  of  the  hermit 
Peter  were  the  moving  principle  and  origin  of  the 
first  crusade,  so  the  second  also  may  be  traced  to 
a  similar  source,  the  energy  and  perseverance  of  the 
celebrated  Saint  Bernard,  abbot  of  Clairvaux.  This 
remarkable  man,  whose  talent  and  learning  had 
already  been  conspicuously  displayed  in  the  part 
he  took  against  the  schism  in  the  church  created 
by  the  pretensions  of  the  anti-pope,  Peter  of  Lyons, 
and  also  by  his  exposition  of  the  heresies  of  Arnold 
of  Brescia,  and  that  amorous  scholar  the  famous 
Abelard,  now  turned  the  whole  powers  of  his 
gigantic  mind  towards  the  establishment  of  a  new 
crusade,  and  began  the  necessary  agitation,  which, 


112  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

to  be  effectual  must,  like  an  electric  spark,  pervade 
the  whole  of  Christendom.  More  respected  and 
less  wild  in  his  views  than  his  predecessor,  Peter 
the  Hermit,  and  gifted  with  a  vast  deal  more  of 
shrewdness  and  penetration,  Saint  Bernard  was  the 
man,  of  all  others,  best  fitted  to  direct  the  flame  of 
popular  enthusiasm  towards  the  proper  quarter,  and 
to  prevent  it  from  being  wasted  on  rash  and  ill- 
advised  attempts.  Thus,  when  Louis  the  Seventh, 
an  enthusiast  for  the  crusades,  convoked  a  great 
assembly  of  the  nobles  and  clergy  at  Bourges,  to 
consider  the  propriety  of  an  immediate  expedition 
to  Palestine,  although  the  step  was  strongly  urged 
by  Godfrey,  bishop  of  Langres,  and  other  influential 
persons,  and  although  the  great  majority  of  the 
assembly  appeared  to  coincide  with  them  in  opinion, 
Saint  Bernard  openly  opposed  it,  and  declared  that 
he  must  continue  to  do  so,  until  the  consent  of  the 
pope  should  be  obtained ;  insisting  that  it  was  his 
right  alone  to  judge  of  all  matters  pertaining  to  a 
holy  war,  and  that  none  deserving  of  such  a  title 
could  be  undertaken  without  his  express  sanction 
and  command.  The  result  of  this  prudent  inter- 
ference was  an  apostolic  brieve,  directed  from  Euge- 
nius  the  Third  to  Saint  Bernard,  authorising  him 
to  preach  the  crusade  in  France  and  in  Germany ; 
and  thus  girt  with  the  highest  authority,  the  wary 
yet  devoted  churchman  set  forth  upon  his  mission. 

His  first  public  appearance  was  made  at  Vezelai, 
in  Burgundy.  So  many  people,  as  well  of  the 
higher  as  the  lower  orders,  assembled  on  this  occa- 
sion to  hear  the  celebrated  preacher,  that  he  was 
constrained  to  address  them  from  a  pulpit  erected 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  113 

on  the  brow  of  a  hill.  Nothing,  say  the  historians 
of  the  time,  could  exceed  the  eloquence  of  his  ha- 
rangue— the  fervour  and  solemnity  of  his  appeal  in 
behalf  of  their  Christian  brethren  of  the  East — the 
skill  with  which  he  touched  every  chord  most  excit- 
able in  the  breast  of  his  audience — the  pictures  which 
he  drew  of  earthly  glory,  and  the  promises  which  he 
held  out  of  heavenly  favour  and  reward.  No  sooner 
had  he  concluded,  than  the  king,  rising  from  his 
seat,  knelt  down  before  the  exhausted  preacher, 
and  demanded  the  cross  which  the  Pope  had  blessed 
and  sent  by  his  Nuncio  to  bestow.  This  example 
was  instantly  followed  by  the  count  of  Dreux, 
brother  to  the  king,  and  by  all  the  principal  nobility 
of  the  realm ;  and  so  eager  were  the  multitude  to 
receive  the  sacred  symbol  from  his  hands,  that 
Saint  Bernard,  after  having  distributed  a  vast  quan- 
tity that  he  had  by  him  in  readiness,  was  compelled, 
for  lack  of  other  material,  to  tear  his  gown  to  pieces, 
and  dole  out  the  precious  fragments  to  the  aspirants 
for  the  honour  of  martyrdom.  His  mission  into 
Germany  was  attended  with  like  success.  Conrad 
the  Third,  with  his  brother,  the  duke  of  Suabia,  and 
many  of  the  most  powerful  princes  of  the  empire, 
pledged  themselves  to  a  new  crusade ;'  and  in  the 
spring  of  the  following  year  (1147),  the  French  and 
German  armies  were  ready  for  the  field.  Unfor- 
tunately for  themselves,  it  was  determined  that 
they  should  follow  the  route  of  the  first  crusaders 
to  Jerusalem,  and  proceed  by  land  instead  of  accom- 
plishing the  journey  by  sea.  The  Germans  were 
the  first  to  set  out,  and  their  progress  was,  almost 
i 


114  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

from  the  commencement,  marked  by  a  succession  of 
unforeseen  disasters. 

This  army  was  one  of  the  largest  that  ever  under- 
took the  pilgrimage.  It  consisted  of  seventy  thou- 
sand men-at-arms,  besides  light  horsemen,  and  such 
a  body  of  infantry  as  had  never  before  been  led  by  a 
German  emperor  to  battle.  Full  of  hope  and  anti- 
cipations of  speedy  conquest  and  renown — inflamed 
alike  by  religious  zeal  and  the  warlike  spirit  of  their 
race — the  Germans  marched  along  the  road  still 
whitened  by  the  bones  of  those  who  years  before 
had  gone  forth  on  the  same  wild  and  perilous  journey. 
Strange  infatuation  !  These  same  emblems  of  mor- 
tality, so  meaningly  strewn  along  their  path,  were 
regarded  less  as  a  warning  than  as  an  encouragement 
to  the  new  disciples  to  proceed,  as  a  call  upon  them 
to  avenge,  by  their  more  successful  valour,  the  fall 
of  the  older  pilgrims  of  the  West.  After  having 
traversed  in  an  unhealthy  season  the  countries  of 
Austria,  Hungary,  Bulgaria,  and  Thrace,  the  army 
encamped,  upon  Ascension-day,  in  a  beautiful  valley 
watered  by  the  river  Melas,  and  made  their  prepara- 
tions to  celebrate  the  holy  feast  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  the  occasion.  But  scarcely  had  the  solemn  ceremony 
commenced,  than  such  a  furious  storm  of  wind  and 
rain  arose,  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  elements  were 
combined  to  oppose  their  further  passage.  The  tents, 
bearing  more  resemblance,  from  their  size,  number, 
and  regularity,  to  a  city  than  to  a  temporary  encamp- 
ment, were  torn  up  or  blown  to  tatters.  The  river, 
swollen  to  an  unusual  height  by  the  accession  of  a 
thousand  tributaries,  came  down  in  terrific  floods, 
inundating  the  plain,  and  sweeping  away  before  it 


KICHARD    THE    FIRST.  115 

baggage,  arms,  and  men.  All  who  had  the  power 
and  the  presence  of  mind  fled  to  the  neighbouring 
mountains,  and  when  the  day  dawned  the  Christian 
army  presented  rather  the  appearance  of  men  who 
had  escaped  from  some  mighty  shipwreck,  and  were 
now  huddled  together  for  shelter, — wet,  weary,  and 
disconsolate, — than  of  warriors  armed  to  the  teeth 
and  marching  to  a  field  of  battle.  Repairing  these 
disasters  as  he  best  might,  Conrad  led  on  his  forces 
towards  Constantinople,  where  he  hoped  to  obtain  a 
friendly  welcome  from  the  Greek  emperor  Manuel ; 
but  where  he  was  doomed  to  experience,  and  in 
a  greater  degree,  the  perfidy  and  meanness  which 
at  the  same  place  had  crippled  the  arms  and 
almost  destroyed  the  enterprise  of  the  first  crusaders. 
Incalculable  indeed  were  the  injuries  which  the 
Christians  sustained  from  the  Greeks  throughout 
the  Holy  Wars ;  it  has  even  been  fairly  doubted 
whether  the  Moslems  were  more  pernicious  enemies 
to  the  faith  and  followers  of  the  cross. 

From  the  moment  the  unlucky  Germans  set  foot 
in  the  Grecian  dominions,  they  became  the  victims 
of  this  wily  and  unprincipled  despot.  Under  the 
'pretext  of  guiding  them  on  their  march,  and  of 
showing  due  honour  to  the  emperor,  who  was  more- 
over connected  with  him  by  marriage,  Manuel  sent 
some  troops  to  meet  them  at  the  Grecian  frontier. 
These,  however,  had  their  secret  instructions,  and 
the  strangers  soon  learned  to  their  cost  the  truth  of 
the  axiom,  that  a  false  friend  is  more  to  be  feared 
and  avoided  than  an  open  and  declared  enemy. 
The  gates  of  every  town  were  shut  against  them. 
Nowhere  were  they  permitted  to  enter,  even  for  the 
i  2 


116  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

purpose  of  procuring  the  necessary  provisions.  These 
were  let  down  from  the  walls  in  proportions  shame- 
fully inadequate  to  the  price  which  was  always 
previously  exacted,  so  that  long  before  they  reached 
Constantinople,  famine  stared  the  ill-starred  crusaders 
in  the  face.  Ambuscades  were  laid  along  their  path, 
by  which  almost  every  straggler  from  the  main  body 
was  cut  off ;  and  what  was  more  diabolical  still,  the 
very  bread  which  they  had  purchased  at  so  dear  a 
price  was  found  to  be  mixed  with  quicklime  and 
other  deleterious  substances,  and  caused  a  strange 
mortality  amongst  their  ranks.  In  short,  there  was 
hardly  any  species  of  possible  treason  or  conceivable 
villany  that  was  not  daily  and  hourly  practised 
against  this  devoted  army. 

No  sooner  had  they  arrived  at  Constantinople, 
than  Manuel,  perhaps  alarmed  lest,  enfeebled  as  they 
were,  the  crusaders  should  attempt  some  scheme  of 
vengeance,  urged  their  instant  departure  to  the 
opposite  shore ;  and  Conrad  finding  himself  in  no 
condition  to  resist  the  mandate,  although  highly 
indignant  at  the  insult  and  injury,  quitted  without 
delay  the  inhospitable  soil  of  Greece,  and  advancing 
as  far  as  Nicomedia  in  Bithynia,  halted  his  army 
there  for  a  season,  to  recruit  from  their  late  disasters, 
and  to  consider  the  easiest  route  by  which  they 
might  penetrate  to  the  Holy  Land.  Counting  only 
the  enemies  before  him,  he  forgot  the  perils  he  had 
left  behind,  and  little  dreamed  that  the  same  fiendish 
policy  that  had  caused  him  so  much  annoyance  in 
Europe,  was  still  at  work  to  effect  his  total  ruin  in 
the  wild  and  desert  regions  of  Asia.  The  perfidious 
Manuel,  not  contented  with  chasing  the  Germans 


RICHARD    THE  FIRST.  117 

from  his  own  dominions,  had,  long  before  they  crossed 
the  straits,  conveyed  secret  intelligence  of  their 
coming  to  the  sultan  of  Iconium ;  with  the  assurance 
that  if  he  would  allow  the  crusaders  to  advance 
far  enough  on  their  journey,  he  might  set  upon  them 
in  the  fastnesses  of  the  mountains,  and  annihilate 
the  whole  army  at  a  blow.  Acting  upon  these 
instructions  the  sultan,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
neighbouring  Moslem  princes,  raised  an  enormous 
army,  from  Armenia,  Cappadocia,  Cilicia,  and  Lyca-- 
onia,  and  waited  patiently  in  the  further  provinces 
in  expectation  of  the  coming  of  his  prey.  There 
were  two  roads  by  which  the  Germans  might  have 
proceeded  from  Nicomedia  to  Antioch.  The  one 
which  led  through  the  heart  of  the  country  was  the 
shortest,  but  also  the  most  dangerous ;  the  other 
skirted  the  sea-shore  and  was  considerably  longer, 
but  besides  its  greater  security,  it  offered  easier 
means  of  subsistence  to  the  army.  Misled  by  the 
statements  of  treacherous  guides,  whom  Manuel  had 
suborned  for  the  purpose,  the  Germans  were  induced 
to  take  the  former  route,  believing  that  the  march 
of  a  few  days  would  bring  them  into  the  heart  of 
Lycaonia ;  a  rich  and  fertile  country,  where  every 
necessary  of  life  was  to  be  found  in  the  greatest 
abundance.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  they 
were  cruelly  and  fearfully  deceived.  Instead  of 
bringing  their  unsuspecting  victims  into  this  land  of 
promise,  the  guides  led  them  away  by  degrees  from 
Lycaonia,  left  them  entangled  in  the  Cappadocian 
wilderness,  and  escaping  by  night  conveyed  intelli- 
gence of  their  situation  to  the  Turkish  army;  who  all 
this  while  had  been  hanging  closely  but  unnoticed 


118  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

on  the  skirts  of  the  Germans.  That  night  the 
Saracens  with  silence  and  precaution  drew  round 
the  camp  of  the  crusaders,  like  a  serpent  coiling 
round  its  prey,  and  next  morning  the  attack  began. 
The  Turks,  well  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the 
ground,  protected  by  the  heights  on  which  they 
were  posted,  and  lightly  armed,  made  fearful  havoc 
among  the  Christians  cooped  up  in  the  narrow 
defiles.  Showers  of  arrows  from  unassailable  enemies 
galled  them  on  every  side  ;  their  cavalry  was  broken, 
and  even  had  its  condition  been  better  it  must  here 
have  been  totally  inefficient ;  the  weight  of  their 
armour  restrained  them  from  any  active  effort  to 
beat  their  enemies  back ;  famine  had  exhausted  their 
spirit,  and  disease  enfeebled  their  frames.  Never 
was  there  an  easier  victory.  With  the  loss  of  all 
his  baggage  and  of  a  vast  number  of  his  men,  Con- 
rad, himself  sorely  wounded,  made  good  his  retreat 
to  Nictea  on  the  lake  Ascanius,  followed  by  not 
more  than  a  tenth  part  of  that  magnificent  army 
which  in  the  preceding  spring  he  had  led  from  his 
own  imperial  Nuremberg. 

At  Nicaea  the  emperor  encountered  the  French 
king,  who,  with  better  fortune  than  his  confederate, 
had  passed  through  the  Grecian  territories  without 
encountering  any  of  these  disasters  which  beset  the 
Germans  on  their  passage.  For  this  no  thanks  were  due 
to  Manuel,  who  did  every  thing  in  his  power  to  harass 
and  reduce  the  French;  but  such  was  the  military  aspect 
they  wore,  and  the  haughty  tone  they  assumed,  that 
the  Greek,  no  less  cowardly  than  vicious,  began  to 
tremble  for  the  safety  of  his  own  capital,  and  was 
fain  to  greet  Louis  as  a  brother  and  an  ally.  Perhaps 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  119 

this  assumed  mask  of  courtesy  might  not  have  served 
his  purpose  so  well  as  he  expected,  for  the  French 
nobles  were  much  exasperated  at  the  previous  ill- 
treatment  they  had  received,  and  were  not  backward 
in  urging  their  monarch  to  seize  at  once  upon  Con- 
stantinople, and  thus  deprive  the  emperor  for  ever  of 
the  power  to  harm,  had  not  a  report  been  sedulously 
spread  abroad  that  their  precursors,  the  Germans, 
had  already  obtained  a  signal  victory  at  Iconium, 
and  were  now  marching,  flushed  with  spoil  and 
conquest,  to  join  their  brethren  at  Jerusalem.  This 
false  intelligence  spread  like  wild-fire  among  the 
French.  Every  scheme  which  could  for  an  hour 
retard  their  approach  towards  the  Holy  City  was  at 
once  abandoned.  The  glory  reported  to  be  gained 
by  the  Germans  was  a  practical  reproach  to  them 
for  their  own  idleness  and  delay :  so  profiting  by  the 
assistance  of  Manuel,  who  furnished  them  readily 
with  shipping,  they  crossed  the  straits  and  ad- 
vanced at  once  towards  Nicasa.  It  was  there  that 
they  encountered  with  consternation  the  wretched 
and  dispirited  remains  of  the  German  forces,  that 
they  first  learned  the  full  amount  of  the  treachery 
and  perfidy  of  the  Greek.  Louis,  struck  to  the 
heart  by  the  miserable  plight  in  which  he  now  beheld 
his  brother  prince  and  crusader,  received  Conrad 
with  open  arms,  and  proposed  that  they  should 
continue  their  route  together  through  the  dangerous 
countries  that  lay  between  them  and  Antioch.  Con- 
rad, however,  ill  in  body,  sick  at  soul,  and  perhaps 
unwilling  to  march  beneath  the  banner  and  safeguard 
of  another,  thought  fit  to  decline  the  offer  of  Louis, 
and  retired  to  Constantinople  for  a  season ;  preferring 


120  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

rather  to  place  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  author  of 
his  present  misfortunes,  than  again  to  encounter  the 
risks  which  beset  the  passage  of  the  Eastern  wilds. 
For  once  the  Greek  emperor  seems  to  have  belied 
his  character,  for  he  received  the  wounded  and  dis- 
comfited Conrad  with  far  more  hospitality  than  he 
had  shown  him  when  marching  at  the  head  of  his 
army. 

Profiting  by  the  experience  so  dearly  gained,  the 
French  army  avoided  the  inland  route,  and  bent 
their  course  towards  Antioch  by  the  sea-shore.  At 
the  fords  of  the  Mseander,  near  Laodicea,  they  were 
opposed  by  a  large  army  of  the  Turks,  whom  they 
succeeded  in  putting  to  flight  after  a  desperate 
engagement.  This  victory,  however,  was  terribly 
counterbalanced  by  the  defeat  and  almost  total 
extinction  of  the  rear-guard,  which  happened  a  few 
days  afterwards  among  the  mountains  of  Laodicea. 
By  a  great  error  on  the  part  of  Geoffry,  lord  of  Tail- 
lebourg,  who  that  day  led  the  first  division  of  the 
French,  and  who,  instead  of  halting  for  the  night  at  the 
appointed  spot,  pushed  forwards  upon  the  open  plain, 
the  rear  of  the  army,  with  whom  was  the  king  in 
person,  was  intercepted  in  the  defiles,  and  a  combat, 
almost  as  disastrous  to  the  French  as  that  which 
destroyed  the  Germans  at  Cappadocia,  was  instantly 
commenced.  Louis  owed  his  escape  solely  to  his  own 
astonishing  personal  gallantry ;  but  although  he  was 
fortunate  enough  to  rejoin  the  other  division,  few  of 
those  who  were  with  him  survived  the  onset  of  the 
Turks.  Still,  so  great  was  the  valour  of  the  French, 
and  so  effectual  were  the  cautious  measures  which 
they  now  adopted,  that  the  enemy,  although  flushed 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  121 

with  their  victory,  and  constantly  hovering  round 
them  on  the  watch,  could  find  no  other  opportunity 
of  a  successful  attack,  and  upon  the  10th  of  March, 
1148,  the  toil-worn  crusaders  made  their  entry  into 
the  Christian  city  of  Antioch. 

No  sooner  had  Louis  arrived,  than  he  received  a 
specimen  of  the  utter  want  of  concord  and  unani- 
mity which  he  was  destined  to  find  prevailing  among 
the  Latin  princes  of  Palestine.  Raymond  of  Antioch, 
though  well  aware  of  the  imperious  necessity  of 
striking  some  important  blow,  in  order  to  cripple 
the  power  of  the  Moslem,  now  increased  to  a  perilous 
extent,  sought  by  every  possible  inducement  to 
prevail  upon  L»uis  to  assist  him  in  a  siiccession  of 
petty  hostilities  against  his  immediate  neighbours  ; 
although  these  could  be  followed  by  no  further 
advantage  than  the  reduction  of  Aleppo,  and  some 
petty  places  which  still  remained  in  the  hands  of  the 
Turks.  Louis,  however,  was  too  sharp-sighted  not 
to  perceive  the  gross  selfishness  of  the  proposal,  and 
too  upright  to  yield.  He  departed  from  Antioch, 
leaving  the  prince  behind  him,  mortally  offended, 
and  directed  his  march  towards  Jerusalem,  where 
the  emperor  Conrad,  now  convalescent,  was  already 
arrived.  On  his  approach  the  gates  of  the  holy 
city  were  thrown  open.  Jerusalem  gave  out  her 
multitudes  to  greet  the  kingly  crusader;  flowers 
were  scattered  in  his  path ;  triumphal  psalms  were 
sung  by  the  priests  and  people  ;  all  hailed  him  as  if 
he  were  the  great  deliverer  who  was  to  establish  the 
Latin  kingdom,  and  to  render  it  invincible  for  ever. 

The  noblest  and  most  illustrious  assembly  ever 
seen  in  Christian  Palestine  was  speedily  convened 


122  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

at  Acre,  where  the  plans  for  future  proceedings  were 
laid  before  the  assembled  princes.  The  result  of  this 
deliberation  was  the  postponement,  for  a  time,  of 
the  recapture  of  Edessa,  and  instead  of  that  under- 
taking, a  general  and  speedy  attack  upon  Damascus 
was  decreed.  Never,  perhaps,  did  the  cloud  of  war 
burst  upon  a  fairer  city,  situated  in  a  more  beautiful 
region  than  this.  Planted  at  the-  foot  of  Lebanon, 
and  watered  by  the  two  famous  rivers,  Abana  and 
Pharpar,  Damascus  well  deserved  the  epithet  "Eye 
of  the  East,"  bestowed  on  it  by  the  emperor  Julian. 
On  the  north  and  west  quarter,  the  city  was  inclosed 
with  a  prodigious  number  of  orchards  and  gardens  of 
the  most  fertile  and  delicious  kind,  irrigated  by  means 
of  canals  drawn  from  the  river,  and  so  gracefully  inter- 
posed, that  the  green  lanes  which  intersected  them 
formed  a  sort  of  labyrinth,  wherein  it  was  difficult 
for  a  stranger  to  find  his  way.  In  every  one  of  these 
gardens  and  orchards  there  stood  a  summer-house 
with  a  little  tower,  and  as  the  population  was  large, 
these  pleasure- spots  extended  over  almost  two 
leagues,  presenting  to  the  eye  the  appearance  of  a 
forest  of  fruit-trees.  The  south  and  east  sides  of 
the  city  displayed  a  remarkable  contrast  to  the 
others.  Not  being  irrigated  like  them,  neither  bush 
nor  tree  relieved  the  nakedness  of  the  plain.  Walls 
of  great  height  and  strength,  surmounted  by  four 
enormous  towers,  were  there  the  defence  of  Damas- 
cus, and  in  addition  to  these,  within  the  town  was 
built  a  citadel  or  fortress,  so  strong  as  to  be  esteemed 
the  most  impregnable  in  Asia. 

The  Christians   having  determined   to  assail  the 
city  by  the  garden-side,  made  a  vigorous  attack  upon 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  123 

the  Turks  who  were  posted  there,  and  succeeded, 
after  a  sharp  contest,  in  driving  them  hack.  This 
was  not  effected  without  some  loss;  for  the  enemy 
had  carefully  barricaded  every  lane  and  path,  and 
stationed  troops  within  the  houses,  who  galled  the 
Christians  by  an  incessant  discharge  of  arrows.  The 
valour,  however,  of  Baldwin  III.,  the  young  king  of 
Jerusalem,  and  also  of  the  emperor  Conrad,  who 
strove  by  feats  of  personal  daring  to  efface  the 
memory  of  his  former  disasters,  triumphed  over  all 
opposition.  The  Turks  were  at  last  compelled  to 
evacuate  the  orchards,  and  to  coop  themselves  up 
within  the  walls  of  the  city.  And  now  had  Damascus 
been  inevitably  won,  had  not  the  spirit  of  dissention 
and  jealousy,  which  never  slept  in  Palestine,  been 
again  aroused  among  the  Christians.  In  place  of 
pushing  on  their  columns  and  making  a  general 
assault  upon  the  walls,  the  Syrian  princes  began  to 
wrangle  among  themselves  who  was  to  have  posses- 
sion of  the  new  principality  of  Damascus,  and  each, 
in  order  to  prevent  its  falling  into  the  hands  of  his 
neighbour,  set  his  brains  at  work  to  prevent  its  being 
taken  at  all.  In  this  laudable  purpose  they  were 
admirably  seconded  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town, 
who  contrived,  by  means  of  bribes  plentifully  admi- 
nistered, to  win  over  to  their  interest  many  of  the 
native  nobles  in  whose  veins  the  Asiatic  predomi- 
nated over  the  European  blood.  The  result  of  this 
union  of  treachery  and  intrigue,  proved  to  be  the 
abandonment  of  the  camp  on  that  side  of  the  city 
which  was  first  assaulted,  and  the  establishment  of 
a  new  one  on  the  others  where  neither  shelter  nor 
provisions  could  be  obtained,  and  where  the  walls 


124  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

were  so  strong  as  to  defy  attack.  The  Western 
crusaders,  who,  along  with  Baldwin,  appear  to  have 
been  made  the  dupes  of  their  mean-spirited  allies, 
were  highly  indignant  when  they  discovered  the 
error  they  had  committed.  It  was  now,  however, 
too  late  to  return  to  their  first  encampment.  No 
sooner  had  they  left  it  than  the  Turks  poured  out 
in  multitudes,  and  barricaded  the  passages  so  strongly 
as  to  render  the  success  of  another  attack  utterly 
hopeless.  Nothing,  therefore,  remained  for  the 
crusaders  but  to  withdraw  their  forces  and  retrace 
their  steps.  Discouraged  and  disgusted,  the  king 
and  emperor  both  re-embarked  the  remnants  of  their 
shattered  armies,  and  turning  their  hacks  upon 
Palestine,  left  the  native  princes  to  struggle  with 
the  Moslem,  single-handed  and  alone.  So  ended  the 
Second  Crusade. 

Had  the  future  defence  of  the  holy  territory  been 
committed  solely  to  the  titular  rulers,  there  is  little 
doubt  that  the  Moslem,  immediately  on  the  departure 
of  the  crusaders,  would  have  fallen  successively  upon 
each  of  the  Latin  states,  and  profiting  by  the  jealousy 
and  bickerings  of  the  princes,  have  made  themselves 
speedy  masters  of  the  whole.  There  existed  how- 
ever at  this  period  other  powers  more  formidable  to 
the  heathen  than  the  weak  and  unprincipled  rulers 
of  the  land.  Those  were  the  two  great  military 
orders,  so  famous  in  history,  the  knights  of  the 
Temple  and  Hospital — orders  whose  gallant  achieve- 
ments, not  only  in  Palestine  but  in  .Europe,  have 
won  for  them  an  immortal  renown,  and  whose 
existence  at  the  present  day,  nominal  and  insigni- 
ficant as  it  may  appear,  is  an  endearing  proof  of  the 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  125 

respect  accorded  to  those  who,  though  partaking 
largely  of  the  errors  of  these  times,  were  not  less  the 
best  defenders  and  the  bulwarks  of  the  Christian 
faith.  As  the  names  of  Templar  and  Hospitaller 
will  be  frequently  mentioned  in  the  following  pages, 
it  may  not  be  thought  discursive  if  we  should  here 
pause  for  a  moment  in  our  narrative,  to  give  a  brief 
sketch  of  the  origin  of  these  remarkable  orders. . 

For  centuries  previous  to  the  first  crusade,  it  was 
nothing  uncommon  for  those  whose  minds  were  pecu- 
liarly impressed  with  a  sense  of  religion,  or  who 
thought  themselves  bound,  by  a  sore  and  weary 
penance  in  expiation  of  the  burden  of  their  sins,  to 
undertake  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  and  breathe 
their  prayers  and  supplications  at  the  venerated  tomb 
of  the  Redeemer.  Although  the  infidel  possessors  of 
the  countries  which  they  traversed  always  regarded 
these  pilgrims  with  feelings  of  derision  and  con- 
tempt, they  were  yet  fully  sensible  of  the  benefits 
that  accrued  to  themselves  from  the  peace-offerings 
and  taxes  exacted  from  the  traveller,  and  if  they 
did  not  encourage  his  approach,  they  at  least  abstained 
from  offering  personal  violence.  Many,  especially  of 
the  poorer  pilgrims,  who  thus  reached  Jerusalem, 
had  spent  their  scanty  means  upon  the  way  in  buy- 
ing the  forbearance  of  the  Turk ;  and  on  attaining 
the  end  of  their  journey  had  not  wherewithal  to 
purchase  a  morsel  of  food,  or  to  secure  a  lodging  for 
the  night.  This  inconvenience  having  been  made 
known  in  Europe,  several  of  the  wealthier  of  the 
devotees  and  clerical  establishments  transmitted 
sums  to  the  Christian  dwellers  in  Jerusalem,  for 
the  purpose  of  erecting  an  hospital  or  caravanserai 


126  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

for  the  poorer  classes  of  pilgrims ;  nor  did  the  Turks 
oppose  the  execution  of  the  scheme,  as  it  seemed 
to  them  to  promise  an  increase  in  the  number  of 
travellers,  and  consequently  an  increased  exaction. 
A  number  of  pious  and  benevolent  persons  dedicated 
themselves  to  this  charitable  charge — some  received 
and  fed  the  pilgrims,  others  tended  the  sick  and 
dying,  and  the  whole  of  this  excellent  establish- 
ment was  presided  over  by  an  individual,  who  bore 
the  title  of  Master  of  the  Hospital  dedicated  to  Saint 
John  the  Almoner. 

When  the  Christians  under  Godfrey  of  Bouillon 
achieved  the  conquest  of  Jerusalem,  they  found  the 
Hospital  still  standing,  and  its  inmates  actively 
engaged  in  their  charitable  avocations.  Penetrated 
by  the  kindness  which  those  benevolent  individuals 
showed  to  the  wounded  of  his  army,  and  reverencing 
the  spirit  of  faith  and  of  charity  which  had  prompted 
them  for  so  many  years,  though  persecuted  and 
reviled,  to  sojourn  among  the  heathen,  Godfrey 
bestowed  upon  the  Hospital  the  revenues  of  a  rich 
estate  in  Brabant;  and  many  of  the  crusaders,  admir- 
ing their  example,  resolved  to  pass  the  remainder  of 
their  lives  within  the  peaceful  walls  of  the  Hospital 
of  St.  John.  Thus  enriched  and  strengthened,  the 
institution  continued  to  flourish,  until  under  the 
reign  of  Baldwin  the  Second  the  nature  of  its  duties 
was  changed,  and  from  an  exclusively  religious 
order  it  became  one  of  a  military  cast.  According 
to  the  ideas  of  the  times  it  was  no  less  laudable  a 
service  to  contend  against  the  enemies  of  Christ, 
than  to  shelter  and  protect  his  servants ;  and  the 
peaceful  monks  of  St.  John  the  Almoner  became, 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  .127 

by  an  easy  transition,  the  mailed  knights  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist. 

This  revolution  in  the  order  was  effected  in  the 
year  1118,  when  Raymond  du  Puis  was  elected 
Grand  Master,  and  the  same  year,  memorable  in 
the  annals  of  chivalry,  beheld  the  institution  of 
another  order,  as  honourable  and  as  powerful  as 
the  first.  Nine  French  gentlemen,  at  the  head  of 
whom  were  Hugo  de  Payence  and  Geoffry  de  St. 
Omer,  presented  themselves  before  Guarimond, 
patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  and  in  his  presence  took 
a  solemn  vow  to  keep  the  passes  of  the  Holy  Land 
free  and  unmolested  for  all  pilgrims  from  the  West. 
They  also  took  a  vow  of  obedience  and  poverty,  in 
token  whereof  their  signet  bore  the  effigy  of  two 
knights  riding  upon  a  single  horse.  This  order 
was  much  cherished  and  supported  by  king  Bald- 
win, who  assigned  to  them  a  residence  adjacent  to 
the  Temple  ;  from  which  they  derived  their  famous 
appellation  of  Templars.  Distinctions  were  speedily 
heaped  upon  them  by  popes  Honorius  II.  and  Euge- 
nius  III.,  and  rapidly  increasing  in  numbers  and 
renown,  they  more  than  shared  the  admiration  of 
the  world  with  their  brethren  of  the  Hospital,  and 
continued  to  augment  in  prosperity,  until  the  very 
circumstance  of  their  greatness  wrought  their  ruin 
and  their  downfall. 

In  all  the  engagements  which  took  place  between 
the  Christians  of  the  Holy  Land  and  their  enemies 
the  Turks,  the  conduct  and  valour  of  the  soldiers  of 
these  two  great  orders  were  eminently  conspicuous. 
They  were  in  fact  the  only  real  defenders  of  the  Se- 
pulchre, the  men  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  it  night 


128  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

and  day ; — and  well  did  they  fulfil  their  trust.  Che- 
rished by  the  earlier  princes,  they  became  the  great 
support  of  thejr  successors  ;  and  long  before  the  voice 
of  St.  Bernard  was  heard  in  Europe,  calling  upon 
the  nations  to  rise  and  march  to  the  deliverance  of 
their  beleaguered  brethren,  not  only  Edessa  but 
Antioch,  Tripoli,  and  Jerusalem,  would  have  been 
lost  for  ever,  had  they  not  been  protected  by  the 
distinguished  conduct  and  desperate  valour  of  the 
knights  of  the  Temple  and  of  St.  John. 

But  the  day  was  approaching  when  even  these 
stern  warriors  were  doomed  to  give  way  before  the 
force  of  the  Turkish  inundation.  Bound  and  round 
the  boundaries  of  the  Christian  dominions  moved 
the  dark  masses  of  their  enemies,  waiting  in  silence 
for  the  expected  signal  of  attack,  whilst  the  prepa- 
rations within  to  repulse  them  were  faint  and  few  ; 
and  little  hope  remained  that  Europe,  disgusted  with 
the  results  of  the  last  crusade,  and  still  mourning  the 
loss  of  her  bravest  and  her  best,  who  perished  in  the 
Cappadocian  desert  and  the  mountains  of  Laodicea, 
w^quld  send  new  succour  to  her  distant  and  doubtful 
allies.  It  is  true  that  in  Baldwin  III.  the  young 
king  of  Jerusalem,  the  Christians  possessed  a  leader  of 
great  courage,  considerable  conduct,  and  active  enter- 
prise; but  to  him  was  opposed  Noureddin,  the  famous 
sultan  of  Aleppo,  a  man  who  for  military  tactics  and 
skill  had  not  his  equal  in  the  East.  The  first  aggres- 
sion was  made  by  the  Turks,  who  under  this  daring 
leader  entered  the  principality  of  Antioch  in  full 
force,  routed  the  army  of  Raymond,  and  left  that 
ill-fated  prince  dead  upon  the  field.  Shortly  after- 
wards, Joscelyn  de  Courtenay,  the  titular  count  of 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  129 

Edessa,  between  whom  and  Noureddin  a  private  as 
well  as  a  public  quarrel  existed,  was  taken  prisoner 
and  sent  to  Aleppo,  from  whence  he  never  returned. 
An  offer  was  made  to  his  widow  by  the  Greek 
emperor  Manuel,  for  the  purchase  of  her  claim  to 
( the  Edessene  territory  ;  and  this  being  accepted,  the 
Greek  soldiery  were,  with  the  assistance  of  Baldwin, 
put  in  possession  of  Turbessel,  and  some  of  the 
border  fortresses.  On  this  one  occasion,  however, 
it  appears  that  the  cunning  emperor  overreached 
himself,  for  all  his  perfidious  services  did  not  prevent 
Noureddin  from  obtaining  entire  possession  in  less 
than  a  year  of  the  whole  of  this  important  territory, 
not  one  foot  of  which  was  ever  afterwards  recap- 
tured by  the  Christians.  The  principal  exploit  of 
Baldwin  was  the  reduction  of  Ascalon,  a  strong  and 
important  maritime  city,  which  surrendered  after  a 
seven  months'  siege.  Eight  years  more  elapsed, 
during  which  time  Palestine  suffered  more  or  less 
from  the  constant  aggression  of  the  Turks,  and 
repaid  them  back  in  kind,  without  any  important 
success  being  gained  by  either  party.  Had  Baldwin 
survived  his  rival  Noureddin,  the  struggle  might 
have  been  still  longer  protracted,  but  his  death,  which 
happened  A.D.  1163,  threw  the  sceptre  of  Jerusalem 
into  weaker  hands.  All  the  writers  on  the  crusades 
have  united  in  bearing  honourable  testimony  to  the 
virtues  and  merits  of  this  distinguished  monarch, 
who  appears  not  only  to  have  won  the  hearts  of  his 
subjects,  but  to  have  gained  the  respect  and  admira- 
tion of  his  enemies.  It  is  stated  that  even  Noureddin 
exclaimed  on  hearing  of  his  decease,  "  that  he  thought 
it  decent  to  have  a  share  himself  in  the  grief  and 

K 


130  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

respect  which  was  due  to  that  prince,  who  ought  hy 
all  men  to  be  lamented,  as  not  having  left  another 
like  himself  in  the  whole  earth." 

Amaury,  the  brother  of  Baldwin,  succeeded  him 
on  the  throne ;  not  without  some  opposition  on  the 
part  of  the  barons,  who  held  that,  as  the  crown  had^ 
been  given  to  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  as  the  prize  of 
superior  merit,  the  same  principle  should  be  applied 
in  the  election  of  his  successors ;  but  these  murmurs 
were  speedily  silenced,  and  the  hereditary  right  of 
succession  confirmed.  The  first  act  of  Amaury  was 
to  make  war  upon  Egypt ;  and  here  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  give  a  short  detail  of  the  politics  of  that  coun- 
try, which  led  to  the  interference  of  the  Christians, 
and  unfortunately  to  their  ultimate  ruin. 

Every  reader  of  Asiatic  history  is  aware  of  the 
great  schism  which,  for  more  than  two  hundred  years 
previously  to  the  reign  of  Amaury,  divided  the 
followers  of  the  Prophet.  Two  caliphats  were 
established,  the  one  at  Bagdad,  and  the  other  at 
Cairo,  both  professing  the  Mahometan  faith,  yet 
each  asserting  the  temporal  and  spiritual  authority 
of  its  occupant.  At  the  period  of  which  we  are  now 
treating,  the  Fatimite  caliph  of  Cairo  was  a  mere 
cipher,  never  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  state, 
beyond  the  nomination  of  a  vizir,  who  not  only 
exercised  the  powers,  but  even  assumed  the  supreme 
title  of  sultan.  The  last  vizir,  by  name  Shawer, 
had  been  deposed  and  was  succeeded  in  his  office  by 
Dargham,  a  desperate  soldier  of  fortune.  Shawer 
finding  that  the  Moslem  of  his  own  sect  were  not 
inclined  to  move  in  his  behalf,  resolved  to  solicit  the 
assistance  of  Noureddin  the  sultan  of  Aleppo  ;  who 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  131 

held  indeed  of  the  dynasty  of  Bagdad,  but  who  was 
by  no  means  likely  to  overlook  so  tempting  an 
opportunity  for  his  own  aggrandisement.  Nourecl- 
din  at  once  consented  to  the  proposals  of  the  deposed 
vizir,  and  sent  one  of  his  ablest  generals  Shiracouch, 
and  his  nephew  the  famous  Saladin,  with  a  large 
body  of  troops  to  attack  the  visurper  Dargham. 
This  latter  personage,  suspecting  the  designs  of  his 
rival,  was  politic  enough  to  engage  the  assistance  of 
the  young  king  Amaury,  by  the  promise  of  a  large 
annual  tribute  from  Egypt  to  the  crown  of  Jerusalem ; 
and  Amaury,  whose  avarice  was  excited  by  the  offer, 
and  who  hoped  likewise  by  these  means  to  turn  the 
tide  of  war  away  from  his  own  dominions,  made 
active  preparations  to  meet  the  army  of  Aleppo  on 
the  road.  Active  as  he  was,  the  Turkish  generals 
had  forestalled  him,  for  before  he  reached  the  Egyp- 
tian frontier,  Dargham  had  been  assassinated,  and 
the  old  vizir,  Shawer,  stepped  quietly  into  his  place. 
But  conti'ary  to  the  expectation  of  the  Fatimite, 
although  the  outward  object  of  their  mission  was 
fulfilled,  neither  Shiracouch  nor  Saladin  expressed  any 
intention  of  returning  peacefully  home.  They,  who 
no  doubt  had  their  private  instructions  from  Nou- 
reddin,  made  such  large  demands  of  recompense  for 
their  assistance,  as  Shawer  was  utterly  unable  to 
satisfy  ;  and  in  default  of  payment  proceeded  forth- 
with to  seize  the  town  of  Pelusium.  Shawer,  at  last 
awake  to  the  baneful  consequences  of  introducing  a 
foreign  enemy  into  his  own  territory,  sought  to 
remedy  the  evil  by  the  same  means  which  had 
created  it,  renewed  the  offers  formerly  made  by 
Dargham  to  Amaury,  succeeded  in  effecting  a  junc- 
K  2 


132  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OP 

tion  of  the  Egyptian  and  Christian  forces,  and  laid 
siege  to  Shiracouch  in  the  town  he  had  recently 
taken.  Shiracouch  at  last  capitulated  upon  honour- 
able terms,  and  was  permitted  to  leave  Egypt  on 
the  sole  condition  of  delivering  up  his  prisoners. 
The  Latins  on  their  part  returned  to  Jerusalem  only 
to  find  the  country  already  in  a  state  of  war.  The 
indefatigable  Noureddin,  profiting  by  the  absence  of 
the  king,  had  thrown  himself  into  the  territory  of 
Antioch,  and  made  some  progress  in  the  siege  of 
Harenc.  On  the  approach  of  the  Christians,  he  fell 
back  upon  Artesia,  and  being  attacked  by  Amaury 
with  more  courage  than  conduct  a  desperate  conflict 
ensued,  in  which  the  Latins  were  completely  worsted 
and  many  prisoners,  amongst  whom  were  the  prince 
of  Antioch,  the  count  of  Tripoli,  and  Joscelyn  de 
Courtenay,  son  of  the  unfortunate  count  of  Edessa, 
were  taken.  Satisfied  with  this  success,  Noureddin 
did  not  for  the  present  pursue  his  conquest  farther. 
On  the  following  year  Shiracouch  again  marched 
with  a  large  army  into  Egypt,  and  Amaury  being 
again  appealed  to  by  Shawer,  took  the  field  against 
him.  On  this  occasion  success  attended  the  Chris- 
tian arms,  and  the  general  of  Noureddin  was  forced 
to  retreat.  But  Amaury,  the  leading  feature  of 
whose  character  was  avarice,  and  who  was,  moreover, 
no  ways  scrupulous  in  maintaining  faith  with  an 
opponent,  either  Christian  or  Infidel,  was  not  con- 
tented with  the  large  price  which  Shawer  paid  for 
his  assistance,  but  meditated  the  wild  and  extravagant 
project  of  annexing  Egypt  to  the  crown  of  Jerusalem, 
as  if  he  had  not  already  enough  of  enemies  to  con- 
tend with,  and  few  or  no  allies  to  do  battle  in  his 


niCIIARD    THE   FIRST.  133 

cause.  No  sooner  was  this  project  conceived  than 
he  hastened  to  put  it  into  execution.  Without 
warning  or  defiance  he  took  Pelusium  by  storm,  and 
enriched  his  soldiers  with  the  booty.  Hardly  had 
the  news  of  this  treacherous  attack  reached  the 
astonished  Shawer,  than  he  beheld  the  Christian 
army  before  the  gates  of  Cairo,  and  heard  their 
summons  to  surrender.  Had  an  instant  attack  been 
made  without  doubt  Amaury  must  have  succeeded, 
but  that  notable  prince  was  no  way  desirous  that 
his  soldiers  should  share  in  the  plunder  of  Cairo  as 
they  had  done  in  that  of  Pelusium,  and  thought  it 
better  to  enter  into  a  negotiation  with  the  vizir.  He, 
knowing  the  man  he  had  to  deal  with,  held  him  in 
treaty,  until  an  alliance  with  Shiracouch  was  patched 
up,  and  the  Turkish  army  Avas  within  a  few  days' 
march  of  the  Christians.  Enraged  at  the  conse- 
quences of  his  own  avaricious  dealing,  yet  not  the 
less  alive  to  the  necessity  of  instant  action,  Amaury 
marched  against  the  Turk  in  the  hope  of  giving  him 
battle  before  he  could  join  his  forces  with  the 
Egyptians,  but  Shiracouch,  as  politic  as  he  was 
daring,  moved  onwards  by  another  route  and  effect- 
ed a  junction  with  Shawer.  Shortly  afterwards 
Amaury,  baffled  and  disgraced,  returned  to  his  own 
kingdom,  without  the  conquest  he  had  promised  to 
his  soldiers,  and  even  without  the  tribute-money  he 
had  earned. 

Shawer  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  his  unmolested 
rule.  Whether  his  death  was  caused  by  the  in- 
trigues of  Shiracouch  or  by  natural  causes  does  not 
very  clearly  appear,  but  the  history  of  Eastern 
nations  affords  us  sufficient  examples  of  the  frail 


134  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

tenure  of  a  prince's  life  when  under  the  protection  of 
a  rival.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Shiracouch,  with  consent 
of  the  Fatimite  caliph,  succeeded  Shawer  in  his 
government ;  but  he  too  had  but  a  short  enjoyment 
of  the  fruits  of  his  victories.  He  died  within  two 
months  after  assuming  the  reins  of  goA'ernment,  and 
his  nephew  Saladin  was  elected  his  successor. 

This  prince,  the  most  illustrious  of  all  the  Asiatic 
warriors  who  reared  the  Crescent  in  defiance  of  the 
Cross,  was  descended  from  a  considerable  family  of 
the  Koords,  a  warlike  race  who  inhabited  the  moun- 
tainous region  to  the  west  of  the  Tigris.  In  conse- 
quence of  a  private  feud,  then  at  least  as  common 
and  as  implacable  among  the  Asiatic  nations  as  they 
have  been  among  the  Celtic  tribes  of  Europe,  the 
family  of  Saladin  were  forced  to  abandon  Koordistan, 
and  to  place  themselves  under  the  protection  of  the 
powerful  sultan  of  Aleppo.  Noureddin,  always 
accurate  in  his  estimate  of  character,  soon  discovered 
the  merit  of  these  expatriated  adventurers,  and 
promoted  them  to  commands  in  his  army,  where,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  they  acquitted  themselves 
with  much  distinction.  Shiracouch,  the  uncle  of 
Saladin,  was  undoubtedly  a  soldier  of  great  merit  and 
enterprise,  but  in  all  the  finer  qualities  of  a  states- 
man and  politician  he  was  far  inferior  to  his  nephew, 
whose  sagacity  merits  our  admiration,  no  less  than 
his  generosity  and  forbearance  demand  the  tribute 
of  our  esteem.  In  these  latter  qualities  indeed  he 
was  unrivalled  amongst  all  the  warriors  of  his  age, 
whether  Heathen  or  Christian ;  and  often  when 
turning  over  the  pages  of  the  history  of  the  crusades, 
so  disfigured  by  the  recital  of  deeds  of  cruelty 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  135 

and  wanton  bloodshed,  unwarranted  even  by  the 
lax  rules  of  chivalry,  and  grievously  hostile  to  the 
spirit  of  the  Gospel,  we  are  forced  to  blush  for  the 
barbarity  of  those  who  called  themselves  followers  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  with  shame  and  sorrow  to 
contrast  their  conduct  with  the  humaner  and  gentler 
dealing  of  the  just  disciple  of  the  Prophet. 

The  fatal  effects  of  the  avaricious  and  dishonour- 
able conduct  of  Amaury  were  severely  felt  by  the 
Christians.  Instead  of  one  powerful,  enemy,  Nou- 
reddin,  they  had  now  to  contend  against  two.  Egypt, 
which  for  many  years  had  stood  to  them  in  the 
relation  of  a  neutral  power,  and  sometimes  of  an  ally, 
was  now  the  state  from  which  they  were  threatened 
with  the  greatest  danger  and  distress.  Noureddin 
and  his  enterprising  lieutenant,  carried  on  their 
operations  with  the  utmost  unanimity.  The  former 
ravaged  the  Syrian  frontier  on  the  north  and  east, 
while  the  latter,  with  a  numerous  army,  menaced  it 
on  the  south.  In  this  difficult  position,  Amaury 
resolved  to  strike  one  other  blow  at  the  rising  power 
of  the  Egyptian  conqueror.  With  the  assistance  of 
Manuel,  who  now  began,  on  his  own  account,  to 
dread  the  augmented  influence  of  the  Turks,  Amaury 
succeeded  in  raising  a  formidable  armament,  and  laid 

O 

siege  to  the  town  of  Damietta  on  the  Nile.  This 
undertaking,  like  most  of  his  others,  proved  unfor- 
tunate in  the  extreme.  After  investing  the  town 
for  fifty  days,  his  whole  navy  was  carried  away  and 
partially  destroyed  by  a  great  inundation  of  the 
river,  accompanied  by  violent  storms  ;  and  profiting 
by  the  opportunity,  Saladin  advanced  with  his  army, 
and  took  the  towns  of  Gaza  and  Daroun,  the  keys 


136  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

of  the  Egyptian  frontier.  In  the  year  1171,  the 
Fatimite  caliph  Adhed,  died,  and  Saladin,  who  by 
this  time  had  outgrown  all  opposition,  reunited  the 
two  great  classes  of  the  Moslem,  by  declaring  Egypt 
a  dependency  of  the  Bagdad  caliph.  The  cares  of 
effecting  this  great  revolution  in  his  government, 
prevented  Saladin  from  prosecuting  the  war  against 
the  Latins.  Noureddin,  also,  found  ample  employ- 
ment in  reducing  an  insurrection  which  some  turbu- 
lent emirs  had  raised  among  the  distant  provinces  ; 
nor  were  he  and  Amaury  destined  longer  to  conduct 
on  either  side  the  great  national  contest.  Both  died 
in  the  year  1173.  Noureddin  was  succeeded  by 
Saladin,  and  the  son  of  Amaury  ascended  the  throne 
of  Jerusalem  under  the  title  of  Baldwin  IV. 

This  prince  did  not  long  retain  the  dignity  which 
he  never  enjoyed.  Afflicted  from  his  infancy  with 
that  loathsome  and  terrible  disease,  the  leprosy,  his 
mind  became  sensibly  affected  by  reason  of  his  bodily 
infirmity,  and  despairing  of  his  own  capability  to 
perform  the  kingly  duties,  he  came  to  the  resolution 
of  committing  the  charge  of  government  to  others. 
His  sister  Sybilla,  widow  of  William  Longsword, 
marquis  of  Montserrat,  had  contracted  a  marriage 
with  a  French  nobleman,  Guy  of  Lusignan,  a  man 
of  some  personal  accomplishment,  but  of  no  force  of 
character  or  knightly  reputation.  This  person  was 
selected  by  Baldwin  as  viceroy  of  Jerusalem ;  and 
shortly  afterwards,  in  order  to  secure  the  accession 
and  relieve  himself  of  all  further  responsibility,  he 
abdicated  the  throne  in  favour  of  his  nephew,  Bald- 
win V.,  son  of  Sybilla,  by  her  first  marriage  with 
the  marquis  of  Montserrat.  A  more  disastrous 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  137 

arrangement  for  the  Latin  kingdom  could  not  have 
been  made.  The  barons  and  lords  of  Jerusalem 
were  incensed  at  beholding  an  adventurer  like  Guy 
of  Lnsignan  placed  at  their  head,  and  openly 
refused  to  submit  to  his  authority.  A  truce  with 
Saladin  was  concluded  by  the  regent,  but  one  of  his 
vassals,  Reginald  de  Chatillon,  lord  of  Karac,  refused 
to  acknowledge  the  right  of  Lusignan,  and  com- 
menced a  course  of  predatory  warfare  on  his  own 
account  against  the  sultan.  This  so  incensed  Saladin, 
that  he  swore  upon  the  Koran  never  to  rest  until  he 
had  shed  the  heart's-blood  of  the  aggressor,  and  the 
sequel  will  show  how  terribly  he  kept  his  oath. 

Baldwin  IV.  and  his  infant  successor  died  in  the 
same  year,  1 186.  Previously,  however,  the  inefficiency 
of  Lusignan  had  become  so  apparent,  that  Baldwin 
was  compelled  to  revoke  his  first  decree,  and  to 
withdraw  the  unworthy  governor  from  his  office. 
At  the  same  time  Raymond,  count  of  Tripoli,  was 
appointed  governor  of  the  infant  king,  Baldwin 
V.,  with  the  stipulation,  that  should  he  die  during 
infancy,  the  count  was  to  continue  regent  of  the 
realm,  until  the  rival  claims  of  Sybilla,  and  of  her 
sister  Isabella,  wife  of  Humphrey  de  Thoron,  should 
be  settled  by  the  pope,  and  others  of  the  Christian 
potentates.  On  the  death  of  Baldwin,  this  arrange- 
ment was  utterly  disregarded.  Several  of  the  influ- 
ential nobles,  in  particular  the  patriarch  of  Jerusalem 
and  the  grand-master  of  the  Templars,  preferred 
to  remain  under  the  government  of  so  weak  a  being  as 
Lusignan,  rather  than  own  the  austere  andactive  count 
of  Tripoli  as  their  feudal  lord.  Their  influence  decided 
the  destinies  of  Palestine,  and  Sybilla  and  Lusignan 


138  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

were  declared  the  queen  and  king  of  Jerusalem.  The 
immediate  consequence  of  this  ill-advised  step  was 
a  quarrel  with  Raymond  of  Tripoli,  who  maintained 
his  right  to  the  regency  established  by  the  act  of 
Baldwin,  and  refused  to  render  up  several  fortresses 
which  he  held.  Lusignan,  without  further  negotia- 
tion, commenced  hostilities  with  his  neighbour  prince, 
and  Raymond,  for  his  own  protection,  entered  into  a 
treaty  with  Saladin. 

The  moment  which  the  Moslem  had  expected  with 
so  much  anxiety  for  so  many  years,  seemed  at  last  to 
have  arrived.  The  symptoms  of  dissension  and  civil 
discord  among  the  Latins  were  watched  with  avidity 
by  the  sagacious  sultan.  The  weak  state  of  the 
empire,  and  the  hostility  of  its  rulers  towai'ds  each 
other,  made  the  assurance  positive  that  Jerusalem 
would  fall  an  easy  prey,  and  never  was  Saladin 
known  to  lose  an  opportunity.  The  mandate  which 
called  his  consolidated  armies  into  the  field  was 
issued,  and  already  on  the  Syrian  frontier  that  storm 
which  was  shortly  destined  to  darken  all  the  land, 
began  sullenly  to  appear. 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  139 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Advance  of  Saladin — Combat  of  the  Turks  and  Templars — Death 
of  Gamier  of  Naplouse,  Grand  Master  of  the  Hospitallers — 
Reconciliation  of  Lnsianan  and  Raymond  of  Tripoli — Battle  of 
Tiberias  and  Defeat  of  the  Christians — Conduct  of  Saladin  after 
the  Battle — His  further  Conquests — Siege  and  Surrender  of 
Jerusalem  —  Generosity  of  the  Sultan  —  History  of  Conrad, 
Marquis  of  Montserrat — His  arrival  at  Tyre — Defence  of  that 
City — Viilonr  of  a  Spanish  Cavalier — Destruction  of  the  Turkish 
Fleet — Abandonment  of  the  Siege — New  Crusade  preached  in 
Europe — Expedition  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  Baibarossa — 
His  death — Saladin  repulsed  at  Tripoli — Lusignan  set  at  liberty 
• — Refusal  of  the  Marquis  Conrad  to  admit  him  into  Tyre — 
Commencement  of  the  Siege  of  Acre — Arrival  of  new  Crusaders 
. — Great  Battle  fought  before  the  Town — Gallantry  of  the  Knights 
Templars — The  Christians  besieged  in  their  Camp — Arrival  of 
the  Count  of  Champagne  —  Isabella  divorces  Humphrey  b~f 
Thoron  and  marries  the  Marquis  of  Montserrat,  who  claims 
the  Crown  of  Jerusalem  —  Arrival  of  the  German  Crusaders, 
under  Frederick,  Duke  of  Suabia — New  Attack  upon  Acre,  and 
Gallantry  of  Duke  Leopold  of  Austria — Death  of  the  Duke  of 
Suabia,  and  Return  of  the  Germans — Privations  of  the  Christian 
Army  during  the  Siege. 

THE  approacli  of  Saladin,  and  the  magnitude  of 
the  common  danger,  forced  the  distempered  Latins 
to  sink  all  minor  differences,  and  to  unite  heart  and 
hand  in  the  defence  of  their  territory.  Lusignan, 
although  unwilling  to  make  the  first  advances,  was 
compelled  by  his  barons  to  despatch  messengers  to 
the  count  of  Tripoli,  with  proposals  for  an  amicable 
adjustment  of  their  differences.  For  this  purpose 
three  of  the  most  respected  and  influential  of  the 
nobles  were  selected,  but  before  they  could  reach 
Tiberias,  where  the  count  resided,  a  terrible  disaster 
befel  the  Christian  forces.  Malek-al-Aphdel,  a  son 
of  Saladin,  having  pushed  forward  from  Damascus 


HO  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

with  his  division  of  the  Turkish  army,  craved  per- 
mission from  Raymond  of  Tripoli  to  pass  through 
part  of  his  territory.  This  request  was  by  no  means 
agreeable  to  the  count,  who,  although  compelled  by 
circumstances  to  maintain  a  good  understanding 
with  the  sultan,  never  meant  to  extend  bis  com- 
plaisance so  far  as  in  any  way  to  favour  the  Turks  at 
the  expense  of  bis  Christian  brethren.  Still,  the 
request  was  of  such  a  decided  nature,  tbat  a  refusal 
would  immediately  have  been  construed  into  a 
declaration  of  hostility,  for  which  the  count,  not 
yet  being  reconciled  to  tbe  king,  was  in  nowise 
prepared,  so  that  Raymond  was  in  some  measure 
compelled  to  acquiesce,  and  gave  tbe  required  per- 
mission, under  the  following  stipulations.  The 
Moslem  were  to  cross  the  river  of  Tiberias  at  sun- 
rise and  to  repass  it  before  sunset,  on  the  same 
evening ;  neither  while  in  tbe  territory  of  Tripoli 
were  they  to  enter  any  town,  or  plunder  any  house, 
or  commit  any  ravage  whatever.  These  terms 
having  been  agreed  to,  the  young  Saracen  entered 
the  territory  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  Raymond 
took  the  further  precaution  of  warning  tbe  inha- 
bitants of  all  the  towns  and  garrisons  of  the  approach 
of  the  Turks,  and  entreated  them  all,  for  that  day  at 
least,  not  to  stir  from  their  houses,  wherein  they 
would  be  as  safe  as  in  a  sanctuary.  Among  others, 
the  grand-master  of  the  Templars,  John  Thiery, 
received  notice  of  the  intended  incursion,  and 
incensed  at  the  faint-hearted  policy  that  would 
suffer  one  rood  of  the  holy  soil  to  be  profaned  by 
the  tread  of  an  infidel,  resolved  to  oppose  their 
passage,  though  the  result  should  be  fatal  to  him- 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  141 

self.  It  was  too  late  to  summon  the  brethren  at 
Jerusalem  to  arms ;  the  only  available  force  he 
could  muster  were  the  chevaliers  stationed  at  the 
priory  of  Caco,  and  those  in  garrisons  at  Saphet 
and  Nazareth ;  when  these  were  collected,  their 
number  amounted  only  to  a  hundred  and  forty 
knights,  partly  Templars,  and  partly  Hospitallers, 
but  they  were  all  warriors  of  the  first  distinction ; 
the  masters  of  both  orders  were  at  their  head,  and 
in  such  a  cause  they  reckoned  as  nothing  the  supe- 
rior numbers  of  the  foe.  Notwithstanding  all  their 
haste,  it  was  well  nigh  sunset  on  that  unfortunate 
day,  before  they  overtook  the  Turks.  These  had 
adhered  scrupulously  to  the  stipulations  of  count  Ray- 
mond, and  were  about  to  recross  the  river,  when 
they  espied  the  handful  of  Christian  knights  ad- 
vancing to  the  charge.  It  was  seldom,  when  their 
numbers  approached  equality,  that  the  infidels  would 
venture  to  stand  the  terrific  onset  of  the  Templars  ; 
but  on  this  occasion,  being  seven  thousand  strong, 
they  instantly  formed  themselves  in  battle  array, 
and  received  the  charge  of  the  knights  with  much 
firmness  and  intrepidity.  The  combat  lasted  long, 
for  no  quarter  was  asked  or  given,  but  at  its  close, 
the  grand-master  of  the  Hospitallers,  Garnier  of  Na- 
plouse,  and  all  his  knights,  lay  dead  upon  the  field 
of  battle ;  John  Thiery,  and  two  or  three  more  of 
the  Templars,  were  the  sole  survivors.  The  victo- 
rious Turks  executed  their  usual  barbarities  upon 
the  bodies  of  the  slain.  Having  despoiled  them  of 
their  armour,  they  hewed  off  their  heads,  and  fixing 
those  on  the  points  of  their  lances,  filed  in  triumph 
across  the  river  in  sight  of  the  people  of  Tiberias, 


142  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

who,  with  agonised  feelings,  had  beheld  the  whole 
of  this  disastrous  combat,  from  the  walls. 

Fearful  was  the  consternation  which  spread 
through  the  ranks  of  the  Christian  army,  when  the 
tidings  of  this  catastrophe  reached  Jerusalem ;  for 
ill  could  the  harassed  Latins  afford  the  loss  of  even 
that  small  number  of  their  best  and  bravest  knights, 
and  of  a  leader  so  wise  in  council,  and  so  sagacious 
in  war,  as  the  grand-master  of  the  Hospitallers.  All 
differences  between  the  king  and  the  count  of  Tri- 
poli were  now  forgotten.  The  disposable  forces  of 
both  were  immediately  united,  and  Raymond  noti- 
fied to  Saladin,  that  the  truce  between  them  was  at 
an  end  for  ever.  The  prince  of  Antioch  also  sent 
such  forces  as  he  could  muster,  under  the  command 
of  his  son,  and  the  king  proclaimed  the  ban  through- 
out the  empire,  commanding  all  those  who  held 
their  lands  of  the  crown,  to  join  the  royal  standard 
at  Ramla.  In  the  mean  time  Saladin,  advancing  to 
Tiberias,  laid  siege  to  the  city,  which  was  left  almost 
without  any  garrison,  under  the  care  of  the  countess 
of  Tripoli.  This  lady,  after  a  spirited  defence,  was 
compelled  to  abandon  the  city,  and  to  retire  into 
the  fortress  with  the  few  soldiers  who  formed  her 
guard,  and  found  means  to  make  her  husband,  who 
was  then  at  Ramla  with  the  king,  acquainted  with 
the  perilous  situation  in  which  she  was  placed. 
Upon  this  a  great  council  was  held,  whereat  dif- 
ferent opinions  were  expressed  by  the  leaders  of  the 
army.  Count  Raymond,  with  much  nobleness  de- 
clared that  althouo-h  he,  of  all  men  alive,  had  most 

o  ' 

reason  to  desire  an  instant  attack  upon  the  enemy, 
yet  that  he  would  rather  sacrifice  everything  that 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  143 

was  dearest  to  him,  than  be  the  cause,  through  ill- 
advised  counsel,  of  the  ruin  of  the  Christian  army. 
He  further  stated,  that  between  Ramla  and  Tiberias 
there  was  no  water  to  be  found,  save  the  little 
fountain  of  Sephorim,  which  was  quite  insufficient 
for  the  wants  of  so  large  a  body ;  that  a  forced 
march  and  attack  under  such  circumstances  could 
not  but  be  followed  by  the  most  disastrous  conse- 
quences ;  and  that,  moreover,  as  all  the  available 
force  in  Palestine  was  not  yet  gathered  together,  it 
would  be  more  prudent  to  wait,  even  although 
Tiberias  should  be  lost,  until  they  could  cope  with 
Saladin,  in  a  more  advantageous  position.  This 
advice  of  Raymond  was  strengthened  by  the  opi- 
nions of  the  great  majority  of  the  barons,  and  of 
Ermengard  Daps,  the  new  master  of  the  Hospital. 
But  unfortunately  for  all,  the  king  was  over-in- 
fluenced by  the  representations  of  the  grand  mas- 
ter of  the  Templars,  who  thirsted  for  an  opportu- 
nity of  avenging  his  late  defeat,  and  who  moreover 
bore  no  good- will  to  the  count  of  Tripoli.  The  order 
for  advance  upon  Tiberias  was  given,  and  the  army 
forthwith  was  put  in  motion. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  after  a  long 
and  toilsome  march,  during  which  they  suffered 
severely  from  fatigue  and  thirst,  the  Latin  forces 
arrived  in  sight  of  the  army  of  Saladin,  posted  on 
the  hills  which  overhang  the  lake  of  Tiberias,  and 
between  them  and  the  supply  of  water  which  they 
so  earnestly  desired.  Believing  that  their  situation 
could  in  nowise  be  bettered,  they  encamped  for  the 
night  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  considerable  forest, 
which  was  presently  set  on  fire  by  the  Saracens, 


144  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

so  that  in  addition  to  their  former  distress,  a  suffo- 
cating cloud  of  smoke,  from  which  there  was  no 
escape,  rolled  over  them  as  they  lay.  Early  next 
morning  they  were  drawn  up  in  the  field,  and  both 
parties  advanced  to  fight  that  battle  which  was  to 
decide  the  fate  of  Jerusalem  ;  the  Christians  rather 
steeled  by  despair  than  nerved  by  courage,  but  the 
Saracens  confident  and  exulting.  On  that  day  the 
Templars  and  the  Hospitallers  led  the  van,  and  for  a 
moment  the  infidels  appeared  to  give  way  before 
their  desperate  charge.  But  fresh  reinforcements 
were  instantly  poured  forward  by  Saladin.  The 
troops  under  the  command  of  Raymond  of  Tripoli, 
and  of  Balian,  the  lord  of  Ibelin,  having  cut  their 
way  through  the  enemy,  were  separated  from  the 
main  body  of  their  friends.  Guy  of  Jerusalem  was 
taken  prisoner,  and  the  Holy  Cross,  which  was  carried 
in  front  of  the  battle  by  Rufinus,  bishop  of  Acre, 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  infidel,  and  its  bearer  was 
slain.  Along  with  Guy,  Humphrey  of  Thoron, 
William,  the  elder  marquis  of  Montserrat,  Reginald 
de  Chatillon,  Joscelyn  de  Courtenay,  and  many 
more  of  the  greatest  Syrian  barons,  were  taken 
prisoners.  Raymond  of  Tripoli,  together  with  the 
lords  of  Sidon  and  Ibelin,  and  the  young  prince  of 
Antioch,  escaped  to  Tyre.  Raymond  did  not  long 
survive  this  disastrous  battle.  He  died  in  his  own 
city  of  Tripoli,  broken-hearted  at  the  reverses  he 
sustained.  Xor  does  there  appear  to  be  any  ground 
for  the  insinuation  which  some  authors  have  thrown 
out,  that  the  defeat  of  the  Christians  was  mainly  to 
be  attributed  to  his  treachery,  and  a  private  under- 
standing with  Saladin. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  145 

After  the  battle,  the  conqueror  received  the  captive 
king  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Christian  prisoners  in  his 
tent.  Guy  was  treated  with  much  courtesy  and 
consideration.  Saladin  himself  presented  him  with 
a  cup  of  iced  sherbet,  as  an  assurance  of  personal 
safety  ;  but  seeing  him  about  to  pass  it  to  Reginald 
lord  of  Chatillon,  the  Saracen,  remembering  his  vow, 
exclaimed,  that  Saladin  had  no  mercy  to  show  to 
traitors  and  to  robbers,  and  instantly  (and,  as  some 
say,  with  his  own  hand)  beheaded  the  unfortunate 
marauder.  Far  less  excusable  was  his  treatment 
of  the  few  Templars  and  Hospitallers  who  had  fallen 
alive  into  his  hands  ;  and  far  better  had  it  been  for 
them  to  have  perished,  like  the  rest  of  their  brethren, 
on  the  bloody  plain  of  Tiberias.  On  the  next  day 
they  were  led  before  the  sultan,  and  offered  the 
choice  between  death  and  conversion  to  the  doctrines 
of  the  Prophet.  To  their  immortal  honour  be  it 
recorded,  not  one  of  these  brave  men  hesitated  for  a 
moment  in  his  choice  ;  and  all  of  them  sealed  with 
their  blood  the  testimony  of  their  adherence  to  the 
faith  of  their  Redeemer.  This  wholesale  murder 
is  the  greatest  blot  upon  the  character  of  Saladin, 
whose  merciful  disposition  in  other  cases  contrasts 
most  strangely  with  his  ruthless  ferocity  in  this.  Be 
it  remembered,  however,  that  throughout  the  holy 
wars,  the  feelings  entertained  by  the  infidels  and  the 
military  friars  towards  each  other,  were  those  of  the 
bitterest  hatred ;  neither  while  we  blame  the  conduct 
of  Saladin  must  we  forget,  that  the  Templars  and 
Hospitallers  in  their  turn  showed  little  mercy  to  their 
Turkish  captives*. 

*  Some  writers  on  the  crusades  have  stated,  that  Saladin  slew  all 
L 


146  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

The  fortress  of  Tiberias  was  instantly  rendered, 
and  immediately  afterwards,  Nazareth  and -Acre 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victor.  He  then  turned 
his  attention  to  Tyre,  but  that  city  being  strongly 
fortified  and  garrisoned  by  the  remnant  of  the  Chris- 
tian army  who  escaped  the  battle,  and  these  being 
likely  to  make  a  desperate  resistance,  Saladin  re- 
solved to  delay  that  assault  until  he  had  reduced  the 
capital,  Jerusalem. 

Alas  !  for  the  Holy  City.  Of  all  that  gorgeous 
band  of  chivalry  that  went  forth  to  battle  with  their 
king,  scarce  one  returned  from  Tiberias  to  defend  the 
sacred  walls.  The  courts  of  the  Hospital  and  the 
Temple  were  almost  empty;  none  remained  there 
except  the  sick,  the  aged,  and  the  few  who  consti- 
tuted the  household.  Still,  however,  the  burghers 
of  Jerusalem  did  their  duty  well ;  and  though  de- 
prived of  their  old  and  tried  protectors,  practised 
such  lessons  of  defence  as  the  hazardous  nature  of  the 


the  Templars  and  Hospitallers,  with  the  exception  of  the  grand- 
master of  the  former  order,  who  had  fallen  into  his  hands.  There 
is  some  confusion  in  this,  which  appears  to>me  to  have  arisen  from 
a  mistake  in  the  dates  of  the  several  masterships.  John  Thiery, 
or  Johannes  Terricus,  as  his  name  is  written  in  the  books  of  the 
order,  was  undoubtedly  grand-master  at  the  time  of  the  battle  of 
Tiberais,  but  was  not  taken  prisoner,  as  Bernard  le  Tresorier  and 
others -confidently  assert.  I  have  placed  in  the  Appendix  (note  A) 
a  very  remarkable  letter  written  by  Thiery,  wherein  he  designates 
himself  grand-master,  and  gives  an  account  of  the  battle,  and  of  his 
escape.  Matthew  Paris  also  expressly  says,  u  Evasit  etiain  ab  hac 
clade  Theodoricus  magister  militiae  Templi."  Immediately  after 
the  taking  of  Jerusalem,  Thiery  abdicated  his  office  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Gerard  de  Riderfort,  who  fell  during  the  siege  of  Acre. 
It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  historians  of  the  time  have  so 
often  omitted  to  give  us  the  names  of  the  several  commanders  of 
the  military  orders. 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  147 

times  had  taught  them.  They  organised  themselves 
into  armed  bands,  increased  their  fortifications,  and 
brought  into  the  city  whatever  victual  and  forage 
could  he  collected  from  the  surrounding  country.  In 
the  midst  of  these  preparations,  Balian  lord  of  Ibelin, 
a  tried  and  respected  soldier,  arrived  amongst  them, 
and  was  elected,  by  unanimous  consent,  the  governor 
of  the  city.  The  silver  shrine  which  surrounded 
the  Sepulchre  was  removed  and  melted  down,  and, 
the  more  to  encourage  the  spirits  of  the  people,  Balian 
created  fifty  knights  from  the  ranks  of  the  hardy 
citizens.  Meanwhile,  Saladin  advanced  rapidly  on 
his  march  of  conquest..  In  addition  to  the  towns 
which  fell  into  his  hands  immediately  after  the  battle 
of  Tiberias,  he  took  Gabul,  Caesarea,  Jaffa,  and 
Ascalon,  with  all  the  castles  and  strong-holds  in  the 
district.  At  Karac  alone  he  received  a  partial  check. 
The  garrison  of  that  place,  although  deprived  of 
their  lord,  the  ill-starred  Reginald  of  Chatillon, 
defended  themselves  to  the  utmost  extremity,  and 
yielded  only  when  compelled  by  absolute  famine. 
Saladin,  on  this  occasion,  gave  way  to  his  natural 
disposition,  and  let  the  garrison  go  free.  Tyre  and 
Jerusalem  were  now  the  only  cities  that  remained 
unconquered,  and  against  the  latter  of  these  Sala- 
din now  advanced.  Before  making  the  attack,  he 
offered  the  people  of  Jerusalem,  if  they  would  sur- 
render the  city,  not  only  safe-conduct  for  themselves, 
but  thirty  thousand  bezants  in  money,  besides  per- 
mission to  settle  in  the  surrounding  country.  These 
proposals  were  rejected  by  the  Christians,  who 
replied,  that  if  it  were  God's  will,  they  would  never 
render  up  the  city  where  the  Saviour  had  died  upon 
L  2 


148  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

the  Cross,  and  shed  his  blood  for  mankind.  Tlii* 
answer  being  so  decided,  Saladin,  without  further 
parley,  commenced  the  siege.  The  defenders,  not- 
withstanding their  straitened  circumstances,  fought 
well  and  bravely.  Their  principal  endeavours  were 
directed  at  the  enormous  military  engines  which 
Saladin  had  advanced  to  their  walls.  Some  of  them 
shook  the  solid  masonry  to  its  foundation,  while 
others  flung  huge  masses  of  rock  into  the  town.  All 
the  attempts  of  the  Christians  to  destroy  them  proved 
unavailing.  Day  by  day  they  saw  their  fortifications 
weakened  and  overthrown  ;  their  provisions  began  to 
fail,  and  want  to  show  itself  in  the  streets  of  the 
besieged  city.  On  the  tenth  day,  a  large  breach 
was  made  on  the  north  side  of  the  walls',  and  the 
inhabitants  called  a  general  council  to  consider  what 
ought  to  be  done,  now  that  the  place  seemed  no 
longer  tenable.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  the 
greater  part  of  the  knights  and  citizens  were  opposed 
to  any  terms  of  concession,  and  declared  that, 
although  they  knew  well  that  Jerusalem  must  be 
taken,  yet  they  would  rather  suffer  death  than  incur 
the  disgrace  of  surrendering  it  by  a  voluntary  act  of 
their  own.  The  patriarch  Heraclius,  however,  dis- 
suaded them  from  persisting  in  their  noble  obstinacy. 
"  It  were  well,"  said  he,  "  for  us  to  die,  if  our  deaths 
were  all ;  but  by  so  doing,  we  would  deliver  over 
to  perdition  the  souls  of  those  whom  we  have  most 
interest  to  save.  For  each  man  in  this  city  there 
are  fifty  women  and  children  ;  and  should  we  all 
perish,  the  Saracens  will,  not  slay  them,  but  will 
convert  them  to  the  creed  of  Mahomet,  and  so  they 
will  be  lost  to  God  for  ever.  My  opinion  is,  that  wu 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  149 

should  send  some  one  to  treat  with  Saladin,  for  a 
safe-conduct,  and  remove  to  some  Christian  country  ; 
leaving  the  Sepulchre  in  the  care  of  God,  who,  in  his 
own  good  time,  can  redeem  it  from  the  Turkisli 
thraldom."  These  arguments  of  Heraclius  carried 
conviction  to  the  citizens,  and  Balian  of  Ibelin,  in 
person,  went  forth  to  treat  with  Saladin.  The  sultan 
was  not  obdurate,  although  he  commented  severely 
on  the  rejection  of  his  previous  offer,  aud  could  by 
no  means  be  brought  to  renew  it  in  its  full  extent. 
At  last  it  was  agreed,  that  a  certain  price  should  be 
put  upon  every  person  in  the  city,  and  that,  if  not 
paid  within  fifty  days,  those  who  failed  in  their 
ransom  should  be  considered  the  prisoners  of  Saladin  ; 
that  the*  others,  who  were  able  to  comply  with  the 
terms,  should  be  allowed  to  leave  the  city,  and 
should  receive  a  safe-conduct  to  the  nearest  Christian 
state.  These  terms  were  complied  with,  and  the 
necessary  sum  for  the  ransom  was  raised,  partly  from 
the  effects  of  the  citizens,  and  partly  from  a  large 
sum  of  money  lodged  in  the  treasury  of  the  Hospital 
by  Henry  II.  of  England,  as  the  expenses  of  a  crusade 
which  he  proposed  to  undertake  in  expiation  of  the 
murder  of  Thomas  of  Canterbury. 

When  the  day  fixed  for  the  departure  of  the 
Christians  from  the  Holy  City  arrived,  there  was 
nothing  but  lamentation  and  weeping  to  be  heard  in 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  Altogether,  independently 
of  the  regard  which  its  sanctity  inspired,  it  was  the 
birthplace  of  most  of  those  men  who  were  now  about 
to  leave  it  for  ever.  Its  venerable  temples  and  fanes 
were  endeared  to  them,  not  only  by  historical  asso- 
ciation, but  as  the  objects  most  familiar  from  their 


150  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES    OP 

childhood  ;  and  these  and  their  own  homes  were  now 
to  be  delivered  over  to  the  enemy,  and  that  enemy 
the  scorner  of  their  God !  Mournfully  and  slowly 
the  procession  filed  through  the  gates  of  the  city 
with  the  patriarch  at  their  head,  and  passed  before 
the  spot  where  Saladin  was  seated,  a  triumphant 
spectator  of  their  departure.  On  this  occasion,  the 
conduct  of  the  sultan  was  manly  and  honourable  in 
the  extreme.  When  the  queen  Sybilla  approached, 
he  descended  froftt  his  throne,  greeted  her  with  the 
utmost  courtesy,  and  comforted  her  with  the  assur- 
ance that  her  husband  should  speedily  be  set  free, 
on  the  payment  of  a  moderate  ransom.  He  also 
inquired  whither  she  intended  to  go ;  and  having 
learned  that  Ascalon  was  the  place  of  her  destination, 
appointed  a  special  guard  of  honour  to  accompany 
her  thither.  Emboldened  by  these  tokens  of  a 
generosity  which  they  could  not  have  expected,  the 
women  of  Jerusalem  ventured,  ere  they  departed,  to 
make  a  request  to  the  sultan.  They  told  him  that 
many  of  their  nearest  and  dearest  relatives  had  been 
slain  or  taken  prisoners  at  the  battle  of  Tiberias,  and 
prayed  him  earnestly  not  to  deprive  those  who  were 
now  without  house  or  land  of  the  only  consolation 
they  had  left,  the  society  of  their  friends.  Saladin, 
with  a  magnanimity  which  has  few  parallels  in 
history,  acceded  to  their  request,  and  set  such  of  his 
prisoners  as  they  requested  free,  without  exacting 
ransom.  It  is  pleasant  to  record  such  gentle  and 
merciful  conduct  in  the  person  of  a  Moslem  prince, 
and  in  an  age  so  comparatively  unenlightened.  It 
would  be  still  more  delightful  if,  while  glancing  over 
the  pages  of  history,  we  could  find  such  examples 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  151 

becoming  more  frequent  as  the  world  advanced  in 
civilisation  ;  nor  be  compelled  to  turn  away,  loathing 
and  heart-sick,  at  the  tale  of  such  atrocities  as  those 
enacted  within  the  walls  of  Magdeburg  and  Saint 
Sebastian. 

Thus,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1187,  was  Jerusalem 
retaken  by  the  Saracens,  after  having  been  in  the 
possession  of  the  Latins  for  a  period  of  eighty-eight 
years.  The  unfortunate  Guy  regained  his  freedom 
upon  signing,  along  with  his  queen,  a  complete  abdi- 
cation of  his  rights.  Antioch  was  also  reduced  to  a 
state  of  subjection ;  and  but  for  one  city,  and  the 
firmness  of  one  champion,  the  Latin  kingdom  would 
have  perished. 

The  house  of  Montserrat  was  highly  distinguished 
among  the  great  families  of  the  time.  They  were 
descended  from  the  dukes  of  Saxony,  closely  allied 
to  the  emperor  Conrad  by  marriage,  and  were 
esteemed  the  strongest  and  most  influential  princes 
in  Italy.  Conrad,  son  of  the  marquis  William, 
(who,  as  we  have  already  related,  was  taken  prisoner 
by  Saladin  at  the  battle  of  Tiberias,)  was  from  his 
earliest  youth  remarkable  for  a  high  and  undaunted 
courage,  an  active  spirit,  and  an  ambition  which  gave 
promise  of  the  happiest  results,  if  properly  guided 
and  controlled.  In  his  person  he  was  eminently 
handsome,  perfect  in  all  sorts  of  exercises  befitting 
his  station,  and  so  skilled  in  the  military  art,  that,  at 
a  very  early  age,  he  was  placed  in  command  of  his 
father's  army.  Afterwards  at  Constantinople  he  did 
such  good  service  to  the  emperor  Isaac  Angelus,  by 
quelling  a  rebellion  which  Branas  an  imperial  gene- 
ral had  raised,  that  he  received  in  marriage  the  hand 


J52  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OF 

of  the  emperor's  sister,  and  was  promoted  to  the 
highest  dignities  in  that  lax  and  luxurious  court. 
But  a  life  of  ease  and  indolence  was  no  ways  suited 
to  the  habits  of  the  enterprising  marquis.  Every 
day  he  felt  the  bonds  which  tied  him  to  Constanti- 
nople becoming  more  and  more  tightly  drawn  ;  every 
day  he  saw  the  field  of  action  narrowing  before  him, 
and  the  news  of  the  bloody  wars  that  were  raging  in 
Palestine,  wherein  his  father  had  no  little  share, 
smote  on  his  ear  like  a  stern  reproof  of  his  own 
indolence  and  disgrace.  At  length,  finding  that  the 
emperor  would  by  no  means  consent  to  his  departure, 
he  privately  collected  some  troops  which  he  had 
brought  from  Italy,  and  embarking  these  with  all 
secrecy  and  despatch,  set  sail  for  the  Holy  Land ; 
without  taking  any  formal  leave  of  the  emperor  or 
of  his  bride.  So  rapid  had  been  the  advance  of 
Saladin,  that  Conrad,  when  he  left  Constantinople, 
was  neither  aware  of  the  total  defeat  of  the  Christian 
army,  nor  of  the  captivity  of  his  father.  Directing 
his  course  towards  Acre,  he  was  surprised,  on 
arriving  off  that  city,  that  no  bells  were  rung ;  as 
was  the  custom  when  stranger  vessels  were  about 
to  enter  the  harbour.  This  led  him  to  suspect 
some  error  or  treachery,  and  in  consequence  he  lay-to ; 
until  a  boat  put  off  from  the  shore,  and  gave  him 
the  astounding  intelligence,  that  Acre  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  Saracens.  Having  learned  that  Tyre 
still  held  out,  though  its  reduction  was  confidently 
anticipated,  the  marquis  at  ones  resolved  to  proceed 
thither ;  to  join  his  forces  with  those  of  the  Chris- 
tians in  the  city,  if  any  defence  was  yet  meditated, 
and  if  not,  to  land  somewhere  on  the  coast  of  Tripoli, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  153 

whither  Saladin  had  not  yet  carried  the  terror  of  his 
arms  and  his  name.  Conrad  arrived  in  Tyre  just 
in  time  to  save  it.  After  the  battle  of  Tiberias, 
Reginald  lord  of  Sidon  had  taken  refuge  in  the  city, 
and  being  menaced  with  instant  siege  by  Saladin, 
and  seeing  no  prospect  of  speedy  succour,  he,  along 
with  the  castellan,  had.  come  to  a  private  under- 
standing with  the  enemy,  that  the  city  should 
shortly  be  surrendered.  So  many  chevaliers  how- 
ever had  taken  refuge  there,  and  were  determined 
to  maintain  it  to  the  last,  that  further  measures  were 
postponed  until  the  siege  of  Jerusalem  was  com- 
pleted ;  and  this  delay  was  the  salvation  of  the  city. 
Conrad  on  his  arrival  was  received  by  the  towns- 
men, fugitives,  and  garrison,  with  manifestations  of 
the  utmost  joy.  By  universal  consent  he  was  named 
governor  and  (as  Lusignan  had  abdicated  his  rights, 
and  no  paramount  authority  now  existed  in  Pales- 
tine) seigneur  of  the  city.  This  adventure  was 
exactly  suited  to  the  enterprising  genius  of  the  mar- 
quis. He  accepted  their  offer  with  eagerness,  and 
entered  immediately  into  the  duties  of  his  new  office  ; 
inspecting  the  fortifications,  visiting  the  armoury, 
and  taking  order  for  the  necessary  supplies  of  pro- 
visions. In  the  castle  he  found  two  flags  of  the 
Saracens,  which  had  been  privately  sent  to  Reginald 
of  Sidon  to  be  planted  on  the  walls,  when  it  should 
suit  Saladin  to  advance  to  the  subjugation  of  Tyre. 
These  the  marquis  ordered  to  be  flung  into  the  ditch, 
and  Reginald  and  the  castellan,  seeing  that  their 
influence  was  gone,  and  fearing  alike  the  vengeance 
of  the  Christians  and  the  Saracens,  privately  stole  on 
board  a  vessel  and  departed  to  Tripoli.  When 


154  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OF 

Saladin  was  made  acquainted  with  the  arrival  of 
this  new  crusader,  and  informed  of  those  active 
operations,  which  threatened  to  check,  at  least,  the 
progress  of  the  Turkish  arms,  he,  before  proceeding 
to  oppose  force  to  force,  sought  to  win  over  Conrad 
to  his  will,  by  means  which,  on  former  occasions,  he 
had  found  more  effectual  than  threats.  He  sent  a 
private  messenger  to  Conrad,  urging  the  folly  of 
further  resistance,  and  promising,  if  he  would  render 
up  the  city,  to  set  his  father  at  liberty  and  to  pay  a 
large  sum  as  the  price  of  his  compliance.  But  Con- 
rad stoutly  answered,  that  he  had  not  taken  up  the 
cross  for  his  own  advantage ;  that  he  was  resolved  to 
do  battle  to  the  last ;  and  that  even  for  his  father, 
whom  of  all  men  he  loved  the  best,  he  would  not 
give  the  smallest  stone  of  the  city  in  exchange. 
This  resolute  answer  roused  the  anger  of  Saladin, 
who  instantly  marched  with  his  army  against  Tyre, 
in  the  full  expectation  of  a  quick  and  easy  conquest. 
But  the  Sultan  had  yet  to  learn  the  powers  of  his 
new  antagonist.  Long  before  the  Turks  arrived  before 
the  city,  Conrad  had  so  strengthened  its  defences, 
that  it  appeared  doubtful  to  the  best  engineers  of 
Saladin,  whether  it  would  be  possible  to  reduce  it, 
without  incalculable  loss,  so  long  as  it  was  left  open 
for  the  import  of  provisions  by  sea.  Another  attempt 
was  made  to  work  upon  the  feelings  of  Conrad  by 
exposing  his  aged  father  as  a  prisoner  before  the 
walls,  and  in  sight  of  the  garrison,  but  this,  like 
the  former,  proved  utterly  ineffectual ;  and  Saladin, 
sending  for  ships  from  Acre,  prepared  to  blockade 
the  city  both  by  sea  and  land.  Day  and  night  did 
the  military  engines  shower  stones  into  the  town, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  155 

but  the  houses  were  so  well  protected  that  they 
received  little  injury,  and  the  Christians  made  fre- 
quent sorties  upon  their  besiegers ;  in  which  they 
were  uniformly  successful.  A  Spanish  knight,  who 
from  the  colour  of  his  armour  gained  the  designation 
of  "  Chevalier  Vert,"  usually  led  these  sallies,  and 
was  particularly  dreaded  by  the  Turks  on  account 
of  his  gigantic  strength,  and  almost  supernatural 
daring.  Conrad  meanwhile  occupied  himself  with 
the  defence  of  the  city  to  the  seaward,  from  which 
point  he  apprehended  the  greatest  danger.  The 
entrance  to  the  port  of  Tyre  was  defended  by  a 
huge  chain  drawn  across,  and  protected  by  three 
towers,  the  usual  mode  of  securing  harbours  ;  being 
the  same  which  was  practised  with  such  success  at 
a  much  later  period,  during  the  celebrated  siege  of 
Malta.  Fourteen  galleys  of  the  Saracens  lay  imme- 
diately without,  to  prevent  any  succours  from  reach- 
ing the  town,  and  to  gall  the  inhabitants  with  their 
shot.  Conrad  caused  several  flat-bottomed  vessels  to 
be  constructed,  with  lofty  fire-proof  sides,  and  perfo- 
rated with  apertures  like  windows.  These  being 
filled  with  archers,  and  pushed  out  as  far  as  the  bar, 
so  annoyed  the  crews  of  the  galleys,  that  they  were 
compelled  to  withdraw  to  a  respectful  distance,  and 
content  themselves  with  remaining  in  passive  block- 
ade. As  Conrad  had  now  reasonable  expectation  of 
speedy  relief,  it  became  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
him  that  every  obstacle  should  be  removed.  For 
this  purpose  he  made  a  feint  of  leaving  the  city,  and 
caused  his  men  all  night  to  make  a  stir  and  tumult 
in  the  seaward  quarter,  as  if  the  troops  were  embark- 
ing and  about  to  leave  the  city  to  its  fate.  When 


156  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES    OP 

day  dawned,  the  great  chain  across  the  mouth  of 
the  harbour  appeared  to  have  been  removed,  and  the 
Saracens,  falling  into  the  snare,  and  believing  that  the 
Christians  had  departed  overnight,  (for  not  a  single 
soldier  was  to  be  seen  upon  the  walls,)  towed  their 
galleys  into  the  harbour.  No  sooner  had  five  of 
these  entered,  than  the  chain  was  lifted,  and  the 
Christians  rushed  forth  from  their  hiding-places, 
and  fell  upon  the  astonished  Turks,  who  were 
slaughtered  without  mercy.  The  captured  vessels 
were  instantly  manned,  and,  along  with  those 
belonging  to  Conrad,  were  taken  out  to  engage  the 
remainder  of  the  broken  armament.  In  the  naval 
combat  which  ensued  the  Christians  were  equally 
successful ;  for  the  Turkish  vessels  were  either  sunk 
or  driven  ashore,  with  the  exception  of  two  which 
hoisted  sail  and  escaped  to  Berytus.  While  the 
greater  part  of  the  garrison  were  thus  employed  at 
sea,  Saladin  commenced  a  furious  attack  on  the 
other  side.  Part  of  his  troops  succeeded  in  carry- 
ing the  outward  fortifications,  but  were  stopped  by 
a  high  and  thick  wall ;  which,  as  -they  were  not  able 
to  surmount  it  with  their  ladders,  they  attempted  to 
undermine.  The  news  of  this  assault  being  brought 
to  Conrad,  he  hastened  with  a  strong  body  to  the 
spot,  ordered  an  instant  sally  to  distract  the  atten- 
tion of  those  without  and  prevent  them  from  rein- 
forcing their  companions,  and  fell  upon  the  Turks 
who  were  entangled  among  the  fortifications.  These 
were  driven  back  after  sustaining  severe  loss,  and 
Saladin,  finding  himself  completely  baffled  by  the 
enterprise  and  energy  of  the  marquis,  and  being 
unwilling  to  hazard  further  loss,  set  fire  to  his 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  357 

military  engines,  and  broke  up  the  siege  of  Tyre. 
The  elder  marquis  of  Montserrat  was  shortly  after- 
wards admitted  to  ransom. 

While  these  operations  were  going  forward  in  the 
Holy  Land,  Europe  was  again  preparing  to  put 
forth  her  strength  in  a  new  crusade.  After  the  fall  of 
Jerusalem,  emissaries,  the  principal  of  whom  was  the 
famous  William  archbishop  of  Tyre,  were  sent  round 
to  the  different  courts  of  Europe,  to  enlist  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  Christian  princes  in  the  cause  of  their 
Latin  brethren.  Frederick  Barbarossa,  emperor  of 
Germany,  was  the  first  who  responded  to  the  call. 
He  assembled  a  large  army,  and  set  out  for  the  Holy 
Land,  by  the  same  road  which  Conrad  III.  had 
taken.  After  experiencing  great  opposition  from  the 
Greeks,  who  on  all  occasions  seemed  to  form  the 
outer  guard  of  the  Holy  Land  against  the  advances 
of  the  crusaders,  and  after  repeated  battles  with  the 
barbarians  in  the  Asiatic  dominions  which  he  tra- 
versed, this  illustrious  emperor,  who  was  then  in  his 
seventy-first  year,  died  of  a  violent  shock  which  he 
received  in  consequence  of  bathing  in  the  cold  waters 
of  the  Cydnus.  His  army,  under  the  command  of 
his  son  Frederick,  duke  of  Suabia,  continued  their 
march  and  effected  their  passage  to  the  Holy  Land. 

Before  their  arrival,  William  the  Good,  king  of 
Sicily,  despatched  a  fleet  to  Tyre  with  three  hundred 
cavaliers,  to  assist  the  enterprising  Conrad,  who,  by 
those  means,  was  enabled  in  his  turn  to  attack  the 
enemy.  Other  martial  pilgrims  from  Italy,  France, 
and  England,  now  began  to  arrive,  and  increased  the 
numbers  of  his  army.  Saladin,  alarmed  at  these 
demonstrations,  proceeded  to  fortify  Acre,  one  of  the 


158  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

most  important  sea-ports  in  his  possession,  and 
having  done  this  in  a  substantial  manner,  marched 
against  Tripoli,  which  he  hoped  also  to  subdue. 
Conrad,  ever  vigilant  of  his  adversary's  motions,  lost 
no  time  in  despatching  the  Sicilian  cavaliers,  under 
the  command  of  the  "  Green  Knight,"  whose  valour 
was  so  conspicuous  at  Tyre,  to  strengthen  the  gar- 
rison of  Tripoli.  At  the  head  of  the  very  first  sally 
which  the  townsmen  made  against  their  besiegers, 
the  Turks  beheld,  with  amazement  and  dismay,  the 
same  champion  whose  fatal  prowess  they  had  so  often 
witnessed  without  the  fortifications  of  Tyre,  and 
refused  to  cope  with  one  whom  they  firmly  believed 
to  possess  not  only  the  malignity  but  the  power  of  a 
demon.  Saladin,  finding  the  place  more  strongly 
garrisoned  than  he  had  reason  to  expect,  did  not 
persist  in  the  siege,  but  advanced  towards  the  less 
important  town  of  Tortosa.  At  the  same  period,  in 
consequence  of  the  incessant  applications  of  Sybilla 
and  his  previous  promise,  he  set  Guy  of  Lusignan 
and  others  of  his  prisoners  at  liberty,  only  exacting 
from  them  an  oath  that  they  would  not  bear  arms 
against  him.  But  as,  according  to  the  morals  of  the 
time,  an  oath  or  promise  given  to  an  infidel  was  in 
nowise  binding  upon  a  Christian,  he  had  soon  reason 
to  repent  of  his  over  -  confident  generosity.  The 
deposed  king  and  queen  lost  no  time  in  proceeding 
to  Tyre,  which  city  they  intended  to  make  the  ren- 
dezvous of  those  forces  with  whose  assistance  they 
hoped  to  reconquer  their  kingdom.  It  was.  however, 
no  part  of  Conrad's  intention  that  the  great  labour 
and  pains  he  had  bestowed  on  the  preservation  of  Tyre 
should  redound  to  the  benefit  of  Lusignan,  whom  he 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  159 

regarded  with  supreme  contempt  in  his  double 
character  of  obscure  adventurer,  and  pusillanimous 
prince ;  he  felt  that  to  himself  alone  the  credit  was 
due  of  havinw  saved  the  Christian  remnant ;  and 

-—  i 

moreover,  as  the  inhabitants  of  Tyre  had  ceded  their 
city  to  him,  and  acknowledged  him  as  their  seigneur, 
he  was  determined  to  submit  to  the  jurisdiction  of 
no  other  potentate  whatever.  Therefore,  when  Guy 
and  Sybilla  arrived  at  the  city,  they  found  the  gates 
shut  against  them,  and  in  reply  to  a  demand  for 
admittance,  backed  by  the  royal  authority,  they 
received  this  answer,  "  That  God  had  committed  the 
charge  of  that  city  to  Conrad,  now  marquis  of  Tyre; 
that  he  trusted  to  be  able  to  maintain  it  against  any 
one  who  might  challenge  his  right ;  that  no  stranger 
should  put  a  foot  within  it,  except  by  his  permission, 
and  that  those  who  demanded  entrance  might  seek 
for  quarters  elsewhere,  for  in  Tyre  they  were  likely 
to  find  none."  So  enraged  was  Guy  at  this  message, 
that,  being  joined  by  a  few  of  his  old  followers  and 
a  remnant  of  the  military  monks,  he  proposed,  in  the 
first  transports  of  his  wrath,  to  lay  immediate  siege 
to  the  city.  Being  at  last  dissuaded  from  this  ridi- 
culous scheme,  he  turned  his  steps  towards  Acre,  and 
sent  for  reinforcements  to  Tripoli,  announcing  his 
intention  of  besieging  the  town. 

Acre,  as  famous  in  modern  as  in  ancient  history, 
was  the  great  seaport  of  the  dominions  of  Jerusalem. 
It  was  taken  from  the  Saracens  by  Baldwin  I.,  aided 
by  a  fleet  of  Genoese,  after  a  siege  of  twenty- four 
days.  Saladin  reduced  it  in  two  days  only,  whereas 
the  present  siege,  of  which  we  are  about  to  speak, 
occupied  a  period  of  nearly  three  years.  The  city 


J60  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

was  very  strongly  fortified  and  built  in  the  shape  of 
a  triangle,  with  the  base  opposed  to  the  east,  while 
the  north  and  south  sides  terminated  on  a  rock 
running  a  good  way  into  the  sea,  and  crowned  with 
a  strong  and  lofty  tower,  serving  both  as  a  defence 
and  a  lighthouse  to  the  haven,  and  bearing  the 
singular  designation  of  the  Tower  of  Beelzebub. 
High  walls  and  barbicans,  with  deep  and  wide 
trenches,  encircled  the  city,  and  these  were  further 
strengthened  by  towers  placed  at  convenient  dis- 
tances. A  small  river  flowed  directly  through  the 
town,  and  the  country  around  was  level  and  cham- 
paign, with  the  exception  of  two  hillocks  in  the 
immediate  vicinity,  one  called  the  hill  of  the  Mosque, 
and  the  other  the  hill  of  Toron.  Such  was  the  situ- 
ation and  strength  of  Acre,  the  theatre  of  the  most 
memorable  siege  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  cru- 
sades. 

When  Lusignan  commenced  his  operations,  his 
army  was  so  insignificant  as  to  excite  the  ridicule  of 
the  Turkish  garrison  in  Acre ;  who  treated  the  whole 
demonstration  as  a  mere  bravado,  and  were  hardly 
at  the  trouble  of  increasing  the  ordinary  guard  upon 
the  walls.  However,  by  the  arrival  of  a  large  body 
of  Pisans,  and  of  other  crusaders  whose  impatience 
had  anticipated  the  general  preparation  in  Europe, 
the  Christian  force  increased  to  such  a  degree,  that 
the  Saracens  began  to  fear  they  had  under-estimated 
the  power  of  the  enemy,  and  sent  notice  to  Saladin 
of  the  formidable  appearance  which  the  siege  had 
latterly  assumed.  That  prince  immediately  paused 
from  his  minor  conquests  in  the  territory  of  Tripoli, 
and  moved  towards  Acre  with  so  strong  a  force, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  161 

that  if  he  had  given  hattle  at  once,  the  Christians 
must  have  been  cut  off  to  a  man.  It  would  appear 
that  the  late  successes  of  Saladin  had  taught  him  to 
regard  too  slightingly  the  power  of  the  Christians, 
since,  instead  of  crushing  them  by  a  speedy  movement, 
he  thought  proper  to  delay,  until  his  brother  Malek- 
al-Adel  should  come  up,  in  order,  as  he  himself  said, 
that  he  should  be  a  partaker  in  the  victory.  This 
delay  cost  him  dear.  Guy  of  Lusignan,  who  well 
knew  that  he  durst  not  cope  with  the  Sultan  in  the 
open  field,  on  receiving  tidings  of  his  approach, 
posted  his  army  on  the  hill  of  Toron,  and  proceeded 
to  construct  such  fortifications  as  would  be  sufircient 
to  secure  him  from  assault,  until  the  arrival  of  more 
European  forces,  which  were  every  day  confidently 
expected.  When,  therefore,  Saladin  came  up  he 
found  the  Christians  so  strongly  entrenched,  that  all 
his  endeavours  to  carry  the  camp  were  unavailing, 
and  he  was  compelled  in  his  turn  to  lay  siege  to  the 
besiegers,  hoping  in  a  short  time  that  famine  would 
compel  them  to  surrender. 

But  fortune,  who  had  been  so  long  hostile  to  the 
Latins,  now  began  to  incline  towards  their  side. 
Before  their  provisions  were  exhausted,  two  large 
fleets  were  espied  at  sea,  making  towards  the  shores 
of  Palestine,  and  these  were  soon  recognised  to  be 
part  of  the  long-expected  succours  from  Europe. 
The  first  was  an  armament  of  Danes  and  Prisons, 
which  also  brought  the  vanguard  of  the  French  and 
English  crusaders;  the  second  conveyed  the  German 
troops,  sent  to  reinforce  the  emperor  Frederick, 
along  with  those  of  the  marquis  Conrad  of  Tyre, 
M 


162  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

who  having  sufficiently  established  himself  in  his 
newly-acquired  territory,  no  longer  withheld  his 
aid  from  his  Christian  brethren.  This  reinforcement 
so  raised  the  hopes  of  the  Christians,  that  they  re- 
solved without  delay  to  hazard  a  general  engagement 
with  the  Saracens. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  October  1 190,  the  two  armies 
drew  up  in  the  plain  before  Acre  in  battle  array. 
The  right  wing  of  the  Christians,  consisting  of  the 
troops  of  Palestine,  and  France,  with  the  squadron  of 
the  Hospitallers,  was  commanded  by  Guy  of  Lusig- 
nan.  The  left  was  composed  of  the  chevaliers  from 
Tyre,  and  the  Italian  crusaders  under  Conrad  of 
Montserrat,  and  the  centre  of  part  of  the  Germans, 
under  the  landgrave  of  Thuringia,  the  Danes,  En- 
glish, and  Pisans.  The  body  of  reserve  consisted  of 
the  remainder  of  the  Germans,  and  the  Knights  of 
the  Temple,  under  the  command  of  their  grand- 
master, Gerard  de  Riderfort.  Geoffry  of  Lusignan, 
brother  of  Guy,  and  James,  lord  of  Avesnes,  a  most 
distinguished  warrior,  were  left  in  charge  of  the 
fortified  camp.  Saladin  drew  up  his  army,  which 
was  more  numerous  than  the  Christians,  into  two 
lines,  with  a  strong  reserve.  His  chief  strength 
consisted  in  the  light  Syrian  cavalry,  while  the  Latin 
depended  upon  their  foot.  Both  parties  were  con- 
fident of  conquest,  and  awaited  with  eagerness  the 
signal  for  the  onset.  The  battle  commenced  with  a 
general  charge  of  the  Christian  cavalry,  which  threw 
the  enemy  into  some  disorder,  and  the  foot  immedi- 
ately advancing  with  levelled  pikes  drove  back  the 
first  line  of  the  Saracens,  after  a  desperate  resistance, 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  163 

upon  the  second.  These,  seeing  the  cavalry  again 
preparing  to  charge,  were  seized  with  a  sudden  panic, 
and  without  waiting  to  receive  them,  turned  the 
rein,  and  fled  in  every  direction.  The  Christians 
having  cleared  the  field,  believed  that  the'y  had 
gained  a  complete  victory,  and  made  a  furious  onset 
on  the  camp  of  Saladin,  routed  the  guard  that  were 
left  for  its  defence,  and  fell  to  plunder,  without  at- 
tempting to  pursue  the  broken  forces  of  the  enemy,  in 
order  to  prevent  them  from  rallying  agaim  The  Tem- 
plars alone,  like  worthy  soldiers,  maintained  their 
ranks,  and  turning  away  from  the  camp,  advanced 
in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives.  The  Turkish  troops, 
however,  unlike  the  Christians,  with  whom  disorder 
was  defeat,  were  easily  rallied.  Like  the  Parthians 
of  old  they  fled  only  to  return  to  the  charge  when  a 
fitting  opportunity  presented  itself,  and  the  keen  eye 
of  Saladin  instantly  detected  the  error  into  which 
his  enemies  had  fallen.  Rallying  his  forces  he 
advanced  against  the  small  body  of  Templars,  whom 
he  accounted  the  most  formidable  opponents  of  the 
whole,  but  whom  from  the  paucity  of  their  numbers 
he  doubted  not  he  could  easily  overcome.  If  these 
were  removed,  an  attack  upon  the  Christians  encum- 
bered as  they  were  with  booty  could  hardly  fail  to 
be  successful,  and  accordingly  the  whole  tide  of  the 
Syrian  cavalry  rolled  down  on  the  warriors  of  the 
Temple.  But  the  knights,  faithful  to  their  old 
renown,  bore  themselves  manfully  and  well.  The 
first  charge  being  over,  their  long  swords  did  fearful 
execution  among  the  ranks  of  the  lightly-armed 
Saracens,  who,  drawing  back  for  a  space,  began  to 
shower  their  arrows  against  the  formidable  group 
M  2 


164  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

whom  their  wildest  onset  had  failed  even  foran  instant 
to  shake.  Saladin,  maddened  by  the  opposition  which 
threatened  to  frustrate  his  schemes  and  deprive  him 
of  the  victory,  ordered  another  and  more  desperate 
charge,  but  again  were  the  Saracens  driven  back  in 
disorder  from  the  front  of  this  impenetrable  phalanx. 
Nor  perhaps  would  they  ever  have  succeeded  had 
they  not  received  a  strong  and  unexpected  reinforce- 
ment. A  body  of  the  garrison,  about  six  thousand 
strong,  seeing  the  Christians  busily  employed  in  the 
Turkish  camp,  maTched  out  with  the  intention  of 
making  an  attack  upon  the  other ;  but  espying  a 
small  troop  of  knights  maintaining  their  ground 
against  a  very  superior  body  of  Turks,  they  changed 
their  first  design  and  fell  upon  the  rear  of  the  Tem- 
plars. Thus  inclosed  on  all  sides,  and  unassisted  by 
their  friends,  the  Templars  could  no  longer  continue 
the  unequal  struggle.  They  made  a  desperate 
attempt  to  hew  their  way  through  the  swarm  of 
Infidels,  and  at  last  succeeded,  but  not  without  the 
loss  of  their  master,  Gerard  de  Riderfort,  and  many 
brave  companions.  Saladin  having  thus  removed 
opposition,  proceeded  directly  to  his  own  camp,  now 
full  of  Christian  soldiers,  whose  disgraceful  eagerness 
for  plunder  was  such  that  they  had  not  even  observed 
the  obstinate  resistance  and  defeat  of  the  valiant 
band. 

No  effectual  resistance  could  be  made  by  men  so 
thoroughly  surprised.  The  whole  Christian  army 
disbanded  and  in  confusion  fled  precipitately  towards 
their  camp,  pursued  by  the  Turks,  who  made  pri- 
soners of  many  during  the  retreat,  and  cut  more  to 
pieces.  The  consequences  might  have  been  still 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  165 

more  disastrous,  had  not  James  D'Avesnes  and 
Geoffry  de  Lusignan,  who  were  left  in  custody  of 
the  camp,  collected  their  forces,  and  by  making  a 
vigorous  attack  upon  the  pursuers,  again  turned  the 
fortune  of  the  day  so  far  as  to  allow  the  harassed 
Christians  to  enter  their  entrenchments  in  safety. 
So  ended  this  memorable  battle,  the  honour  of  which 
was  claimed  by  both  parties  with  some  show  of 
reason.  It  appears,  however,  that  the  Saracens  on 
the  whole  sustained  the  severest  loss,  as  a  son  and  a 
nephew  of  the  sultan,  besides  many  of  his  most  dis- 
tinguished officers,  were  slain  in  the  first  attack  ; 
whereas,  besides  the  Templars,  Andrew  count  of 
Brienne  was  the  only  man  of  note  among  the  crusa- 
ders who  fell. 

This  battle  made  both  parties  so  well  acquainted 
with  their  relative  strength,  that  neither  felt  desirous 
again  to  try  their  fortune  in  the  open  field.  They 
therefore  remained  in  a  state  of  double  siege,  the 
Christians  watching  the  city,  and  the  army  of 
Saladin  hanging  on  the  skirts  of  the  Christians  with- 
out making  any  general  demonstration.  Only, 
whenever  the  crusaders  made  a  more  active  attack 
than  usual  upon  the  city,  and  began  to  ply  their 
military  engines,  they  were  sure  to  be  disturbed  by 
a  similar  attempt  upon  their  own  camp  by  Saladin, 
and  were  compelled  to  turn  upon  the  defensive.  Du- 
ring the  first  winter,  the  crusaders  suffered  severely 
from  famine.  The  fleets  of  Saladin  which  occupied 
the  sea,  conveyed  large  stores  of  provisions  into  the 
city ;  and  his  own  army  was  well  supplied  from  the 
adjacent  country,  the  resources  of  which  were  utterly 
barred  against  his  adversaries.  So  pressing  at  one 


166  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

time  did  the  necessity  become,  that  horse-flesh  was 
almost  the  only  subsistence  of  the  crusaders ;  and 
even  this  miserable  shift  must  soon  have  failed  them, 
had  not  Conrad,  by  collecting  his  vessels  from  Tyre 
and  hazarding  a  naval  engagement  with  his  usual 
success,  relieved  them  from  their  sad  emergency. 
As  soon  as  the  passage  by  sea  was  thus  re-opened,  new 
supplies  of  provisions  were  introduced,  and  new 
reinforcements  from  Europe  sustained  the  hopes  of 
the  Christians.  The  most  important  of  these  fresh 
arrivals  was  that  of  Henry  the  young  count  of 
Champagne,  nephew  of  king  Richard,  who  brought 
the  joyful  news  that  his  uncle  and  the  French  king 
might  shortly  be  expected  to  arrive  in  the  Holy 
Land. 

Meanwhile  a  new  cause  of  dissention  and  jealousy 
arose.  Isabella,  who  was  half-sister  to  the  queen 
Sybilla,  and  daughter  of  Amaury,  by  his  second 
marriage  with  the  princess  Mary,  daughter  of  Sebas- 
tocrator  Isaac  Comnenus,  had  been  married  when 
a  mere  child  to  Humphrey  of  Thoron,  a  weak  and 
foolish  man,  who  was  held  in  less  respect  by  his 
brother  barons  than  even  the  vacillating  Guy. 
This  marriage,  as  might  have  been  expected,  proved 
an  unhappy  one,  the  parties  being  quite  unsuited  to 
each  "other  by  temper  and  inclination.  The  renown 
and  personal  accomplishments  of  Conrad  of  Mont- 
serrat  at  first  attracted  the  attention,  and  finally 
gained  the  affections  of  the  ambitious  Isabella,  in 
whose  eyes  his  good  qualities  seemed  even  greater 
than  they  were,  when  contrasted  with  the  humili- 
ating inferiority  of  her  spouse.  The  result  of  this 
liaison  was  a  mutual  divorce,  and  a  marriage  between 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  167 

the  amorous  pair.  Isabella  alleged  that  she  had 
been  compelled  as  a  child,  contrary  to  her  inclina- 
tions, to  espouse  Humphrey  ;  and  Conrad,  who  had 
already  deserted  his  Grecian  bride,  passed  over  these 
former  nuptials  as  indifferently  as  though  they  never 
had  taken  place.  The  laxity  of  morals  prevailing 
among  the  Franks  gave  countenance  to  this  scan- 
dalous proceeding :  Humphrey  was  a  mere  cipher, 
whose  consent  or  opposition  were  equally  disre- 
garded ;  and  although  Baldwin,  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, entered  a  strong  protest  against  the  ille- 
gality of  the  measure,  Conrad  and  Isabella  were 
publicly  married  by  the  complaisant  bishop  of 
Beauvais. 

On  the  part  of  the  marquis  this  alliance  was  one 
of  policy  as  well  as  of  inclination.  Sybilla  and  her 
infant  daughter  were  now  both  dead,  and  as  Guy  of 
Lusignan  had  only  acquired  the  crown  of  Jerusalem 
by  marriage,  it  was  agreed  by  the  partisans  of 
Conrad,  that  the  right  now  devolved  upon  Isabella, 
who  was  the  sole  surviving  descendant  of  the  royal 
family  of  Jerusalem.  Vehement  resistance  was  of 
course  made  to  this  doctrine  by  the  friends  of  Lu- 
signan, but  these  were  few  in  number  compared  with 
the  adherents  of  his  rival,  who  was  certainly  in  every 
respect  better  fitted  to  maintain  the  dignity  and 
honour  of  the  crown,  especially  in  such  troublesome 
times.  Such  being  the  case,  there  is  some  reason  to 
commend  the  moderation  of  Conrad,  in  not  instantly 
assuming,  as  he  was  urged  to  do,  the  royal  style  and 
authority,  but  in  consenting  to  waive  his  claim,  until 
the  arrival  and  arbitration  of  the  kings  of  England 


168  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

and  France  should  put  an  end  to  the  dispute. 
Matters  were  on  this  footing  when  the  German 
crusaders  under  Frederick,  duke  of  Suahia,  son  of 
the  late  emperor,  arrived  at  Acre.  Another  general 
assault  upon  the  city  was  ordered,  and  a  protracted 
struggle  took  place,  in  which  duke  Leopold  of 
Austria  particularly  distinguished  himself;  for, 
having  gained  the  top  of  the  walls,  and  being  cut  off 
from  his  men,  he  defended  himself  for  a  long  time 
single-handed,  against  a  great  body  of  the  garrison, 
and  at  last,  when  overcome  by  numbers,  threw 
himself  all  armed  as  he  was  into  the  sea ;  in  token 
of  which  exploit,  Frederick  assigned  him  for  his 
armorial  bearings,  a  fez  argent  on  a  shield  gules, 
which  the  house  of  Austria  carry  to  this  day. 
Notwithstanding  all  their  endeavours,  the  Chris- 
tians were  not  able  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
city,  but  were  again  compelled  to  retire  to  their 
lines. 

Shortly  afterwards  Frederick  of  Suabia,  the  valiant 
leader  of  the  Germans,  fell  sick  and  died,  and  his 
troops,  disheartened  by  the  fatigues  they  had  endured 
in  their  passage  from  Europe,  and  disconsolate  at  his 
loss,  refused  to  remain  longer,  but  returned  to  their 
own  country.  Leopold  of  Austria  and  his  own 
particular  retainers  were  all  that  remained  of  the 
numerous  army  of  German  crusaders. 

The  remaining  history  of  the  military  operations  in 
Palestine,  until  the  arrival  of  Richard  and  Philip 
Augustus,  presents  no  features  of  remarkable  in- 
terest. Both  sickness  and  famine  were  unusually 
prevalent  in  the  Christian  camp,  and  though  the 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  169 

latter  was  sometimes  alleviated  by  the  activity  of  the 
marquis  of  Montserrat,  the  troops  were  never  in  a 
condition  to  hazard  another  general  engagement,  or 
to  undertake  an  effectual  assault.  They  therefore 
contented  themselves  with  repelling  the  attacks  of 
Saladin,  and  the  sallies  of  the  besieged  garrison,  and 
awaited  with  intense  eagerness  the  approach  of  the 
allied  kings.  Philip  arrived  first  and  assumed  the 
chief  command,  but  nothing  of  importance  was  done 
until  Co3ur-de-Lion  set  foot  on  the  Holy  Land. 


170  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Joy  of  the  Crusaders  at  Richard's  Arrival  at  Acre  ;  and  Jealousy  of 
Philip  and  the  Marquis  Conrad — State  of  the  Siege — Richard's 
Illness — Unsuccessful  Attack  upon  the  City  by  Philip — Death 
of  Alberic  Clement,  Marshal  of  France — Richard  continues  the 
Siege;  effects  a  Breach,  but  is  repulsed — Offer  by  the  Garrison 
to  capitulate  refused — General  Assault  upon  the  City,  and  final 
Surrender — Further  Disagreement  between  Richard  and  Philip — 
Dispute  for  the  Crown  of  Jerusalem  filially  settled — Departure 
of  Philip  from  the  Holy  Land — Saladin  puts  to  death  the 
Christian  Captives ;  and  Richard  in  return  causes  the  Garrison 
of  Acre  to  be  beheaded — Preparations  for  the  Campaign — March 
to  Caiphas — Attack  of  the  Turks  repelled — Order  of  the  Marcli 
— Arrival  at  Cesarea — Hardships  of  the  Crusaders^Skirmish 
near  Cesarea — The  Army  are  harassed  by  the  Saracens  during 
their  advance  inland — Want  of  Provisions — Arrival  at  the  River 
of  Assur,  and  preparations  for  a  general  Engagement. 

THE  arrival  of  Richard  was  hailed  by  the  crusa- 
ders with  tokens  of  extraordinary  joy.  The  fame  of 
his  prowess  had  gone  before  him,  and  even  in  Pales- 
tine, a  country  wherein  war  for  a  hundred  years 
had  never  ceased  to  rage,  his  military  operations 
in  Cyprus  were  watched  with  no  common  interest, 
and  his  success  was  looked  upon  as  a  pledge  and 
assurance  of  the  victories  which  he,  the  great 
Achilles  of  this  army,  would  gain  in  Palestine  at 
the  head  of  the  warriors  of  the  cross.  The  camp  was 
that  day  deserted  by  its  inmates,  who  all  thronged 
eagerly  to  the  shore  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  their 
expected  champion.  The  French  as  well  as  the 
English  crusaders  were  of  course  already  acquainted 
with  his  person,  and  vaunted  of  such  knowledge,  as 
if  the  mere  circumstance  of  eye-familiarity  rendered 
them  superior  to  the  rest.  But  the  Italians,  Ger- 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  171 

mans,  Danes  and  Flemings,  the  old  inhabitants  of 
Jerusalem,  and  the  knights  of  the  Temple  and  Hos- 
pital, had  never  yet  cast  eyes  upon  Richard,  though 
often  and  often  while  straining  their  vision  to  dis- 
cover the  distant  speck  of  his  sails  upon  the  sea, 
they  had  discoursed  together  of  the  stalwart  frame, 
high  look,  and  noble  gesture  of  the  far-famed  English 
monarch.  Their  expectations  were  more  than  ful- 
filled. Th&  kingly  bearing  of  Richard  surpassed 
the  pictures  they  had  drawn,  and  as  he  set  foot 
upon  the  holy  earth,  such  a  shout  arose  as  made 
the  walls  of  Acre  tremble. 

Two  men  only  in  the  Christian  army  beheld  the 
approach  of  Richard  with  dissatisfaction,  although 
even  they  were  forced  to  disguise  their  sentiments. 
These  were  the  king  of  France  and  the  marquis 
Conrad  of  Tyre.  The  first,  until  this  day,  had 
been  the  principal  personage  in  the  camp,  the  most 
admired  and  applauded  of  all ;  but  he  now  saw 
that  the  star  of  his  reputation  was  destined  to  wane 
before  the  brilliancy  of  his  rival,  whom  he  had  long 
ceased  to  love,  and  whom  he  now  began  to  hate. 
Conrad,  on  the  other  hand,  regarded  Richard  as  the 
man  who  was  to  deprive  him  of  his  influence  and 
kingdom,  to  place  an  unworthy  rival  over  his  head, 
and  to  rob  him  even  of  the  principality  which  his 
sole  distinguished  valour  had  rescued  from  the  grasp 
of  the  heathen.  This  last  he  had  indeed  taken  steps 
to  preserve,  by  placing  Tyre  under  the  protection 
of  the  king  of  France,  who  was  friendly  to  his 
interests.  But  who  could  tell  how  far  such  pro- 
tection might  avail  against  the  power  of  Richard, 
if  excited  by  the  machinations  of  Lusignan  ?  For 


172  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

himself,  he  was  conscious  that  his  own  talent  and 
influence  were  not  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  cope 
with  Richard  on  anything  like  equal  terms,  and  he 
looked  forward  with  anxiety  to  the  time  when  his 
royal  protector  should  depart  from  Palestine,  and 
leave  the  conduct  of  the  enterprise  in  the  hands  of 
Coeur-de-Lion  alone.  Nor  was  this  event  at  all 
improbable,  for  Philip,  the  count  of  Flanders,  had 
died  immediately  after  reaching  Acre ;  and  the  king 
of  France,  not  content  with  appropriating  his  per- 
sonal property,  harboured  the  intent  of  annexing 
his  dominions  to  his  own,  and  was  therefore  anxious 
to  find  a  pretext  for  abandoning  the  crusade,  which, 
though  it  might  add  something  to  his  reputation, 
promised,  in  return  for  his  labour  and  cost,  no  lasting 
or  solid  advantages.  Notwithstanding  this  state  of 
feeling,  both  Philip  and  Conrad  were  among  the 
first  to  welcome  Richard,  and  to  conduct,  him  to  the 
quarters  allotted  him  in  the  camp.  That  night 
there  was  feasting  and  gladness  among  the  Chris- 
tians, and  in  the  city  sorrow  and  despair.  By 
that  unaccountable  intelligence  which  always  exists 
between  the  inhabitants  of  a  besieged  citv  and  its 

O  * 

besiegers,  the  garrison  of  Acre  were  made  acquainted 
•with  the  loss  of  the  vessel  upon  which  their  principal 
dependence  was  placed,  and  of  the  arrival  of  one 
whom  they  hated  as  the  destroyer  of  their  friends, 
and  feared  as  their  own  mighty  and  invincible  foe. 

The  Christians  had  not  made  any  great  progress 
with  the  siege  at  the  time  of  Richard's  arrival.    The 

O 

king  of  France  contented  himself  with  preparing  his 
engines,  and  disciplining  his  troops ;  perhaps,  had 
he  been  allowed  to  follow  his  own  inclination,  he 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  173 

would  have  hazarded  an  assault,  but  the  majority  of 
the  crusaders  preferred  that  this  should  be  delayed, 
until  by  the  presence  of  Richard  their  whole  force 
should  be  concentrated,  and  Philip  was  compelled 
to  yield.  Richard,  on  his  part,  lost  no  time  in  pre- 
paring for  the  enterprise,  and  having  landed  his 
military  stores,  proceeded  to  erect  such  engines, 
as  were  then  reckoned  the  most  effectual  im- 
plements for  battering  the  walls,  and  for  hurling 
missiles  into  the  midst  of  a  beleaguered  town. 
While  thus  employed,  the  Pisans  and  the  Genoese 
offered  Richard  their  services  during  the  crusade. 
The  overtures  of  the  first  were  accepted,  and  the 
Pisans  afterwards  foxight  with  credit  to  themselves 
beneath  the  English  flag,  but  Richard  refused  the 
Genoese,  on  account  of  their  having  previously  made 
the  same  offer  to  Philip  and  to  the  marquis  of  Tyre. 
The  engines  being  at  last  erected,  a  day  for  the 
general  assault  upon  the  city  was  fixed,  and  the 
crusaders  flattered  themselves  with  the  hope  of  an 
easy  victory.  But  the  time  for  the  reduction  of 
Acre  was  not  yet  come.  Richard  was  suddenly 
attacked  by  one  of  the  fevers  so  common  in  southern 
countries,  and  which  was  at  the  time  peculiarly 
prevalent  in  the  camp.  He  became  so  weak  and 
languid  as  to  be  utterly  unable  to  support  the 
weight  of  his  armour,  and  presently  afterwards 
to  stir  from  his  couch.  Notwithstanding  this 
grievous  disappointment,  it  was  determined  that 
the  attack  upon  the  city  should  be  made,  and 
accordingly  Philip,  once  more  the  leader  of  the 
Christians,  manned  his  engines,  and  advanced 

*  O 

against  the  city.     The  Saracens  in  Acre,  aware  of 


174  TH*E    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

his  intention,  made  the  usual  signals  by  atabals 
and  shouting  to  warn  Saladin  of  their  danger,  and 
in  the  mean  time  returned  with  great  vigour  the 
shower  of  stones  which  were  flung  against  them, 
and  endeavoured,  with  the  Greek  fire,  to  destroy 
the  enormous  towers,  which  even  overlooked  their 
walls.  Saladin,  always  on  the  alert,  drew  out  his 
forces,  and  fell  upon  the  rear  of  the  Christians, 
filling  up  the  fosse  by  which  their  camp  was  pro- 
tected, tearing  down  the  palisades,  and  even  burn- 
ing some  of  the  tents.  Geoffry  of  Lusignan,  the 
brother  of  Guy,  to  whom  this  important  post  was 
assigned,  resisted  obstinately  the  attack  of  the 
sultan,  performed  prodigies  of  valour,  and  finally 
beat  his  opponents  back.  Yet  so  vigorous,  this  time, 
was  the  onset  of  the  Turks,  that  he  was  forced  to 
call  to  his  assistance  some  of  the  assailants  of  the 
city;  others,  hearing  the  noise  behind,  and  seeing 
part  of  their  own  troops  hastening  to  the  rear,  left 
their  engines,  and  followed  their  example.  The 
Saracens  in  'Acre  profited  by  the  opportunity,  and 
made  a  sally,  which  threw  the  crusaders  into  such 
confusion,  that  Philip  deemed  it  advisable  to  aban- 
don the  assault  for  the  present,  and  retired  to  his 
own  quarters,  in  chagrin  and  disappointment.  He 
was  shortly  seized  by  the  same  malady  which  con- 
fined Richard  to  his  bed,  and  although  the  Templars 
and  Hospitallers  with  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and 
others  continued  day  and  night  to  annoy  the  city 
from  their  engines,  the  walls  were  too  strong  to 
give  way,  and  the  wooden  towers  of  the  besiegers 
were  one  by  one  destroyed  by  means  of  the  Greek 
fire,  against  which  not  even  raw  hides,  esteemed  the 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  175 

best  preventive,  were  found  to  be  effectual.  The 
details  of  the  siege  are  so  long,  that  we  must  be 
excused  from  particular  mention  of  the  exploits 
performed  on  both  sides  during  the  illness  of  the 
kings.  Philip  was  the  first  to  recover.  As  soon 
as  he  was  able  personally  to  superintend  the  opera- 
tions, he  determined  to  make  another  attempt,  in 
order  if  possible  to  wipe  off  the  disgrace  of  his 
former  failure.  For  this  purpose  he  caused  part  of 
the  walls  to  be  undermined,  and  on  the  morning 

'  O 

fixed  for  the  attack  ordered  the  wooden  props  to  be 
set  on  fire,  confidently  expecting  to  effect  a  breach. 
The  work,  however,  seems  to  have  been  clumsily 
executed,  for  the  wall,  instead  of  falling  into  ruin, 
merely  sunk  into  the  earth,  and  inclined  slightly 
outwards  ;  enough,  however,  was  done  to  terrify 
the  besieged,  and  to  animate  the  hopes  of  the 
assailants,  who  rushed  forward  with  loud  shouts, 
and  attempted  to  carry  the  town  by  escalade.  'At 
the  same  moment  the  forces  of  Saladin,  under  his 
ablest  general,  Kahadin,  fell  upon  the  camp,  but 
this  time  they  were  not  able  to  penetrate  further 
than  the  fosse,  their  manoeuvre  having  been  antici- 
pated, and  a  large  body  of  crusaders  stationed  to 
receive  them.  The  Saracens  within  Acre  fought 
desperately  and  well.  Every  ladder  placed  against 
the  walls  was  overthrown,  and  crowds  of  soldiers 
dashed  from  the  topmost  rounds  to  the  earth,  where 
they  lay  crushed  and  helpless.  Much  noble  blood 
was  that  day  spilt  in  vain.  No  Christian  foot  was 
planted  upon  the  battlement,  until  Alberic  Clement, 
marshal  of  France,  whose  name  has  been  rendered 
immortal  by  his  prowess,  swore  that  he  would  con- 


176  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

quer  Acre,  or  perish  in  the  attempt;  and  calling  on 
his  men  to  follow  him,  he  placed  a  ladder  against  the 
wall,  and  leaping  upon  the  battlement,  struck  down 
the  Turks  who  attempted  to  oppose  his  progress. 
Multitudes  of  the  French  strove  to  come  to  his 
assistance,  but  this  very  eagerness  defeated  their 
object,  for  so  crowded  was  the  ladder  with  men-at- 
arms,  that  it  broke  across,  and  all  who  were  upon 
it  fell  heavily  upon  the  ground.  Alberic  Clement, 
thus  left  alone,  defended  himself  nobly  for  a  time, 
until,  oppressed  by  numbers,  he  died  iipon  the  walls 
of  Acre.  A  knight  more  valiant,  and  more  beloved, 
was  not  in  the  Christian  army ;  and  so  dispirited 
were  all  the  assailants,  by  the  spectacle  of  his 
untimely  end,  that  again  they  withdrew  from  the 
attack,  leaving  the  city  still  unsubdued. 

By  this  time  Richard  had  recovered  so  far  from 
his  illness  that  he  was  able  to  leave  his  couch,  and 
though  still  weak  and  emaciated  applied  himself  to 
the  task,  which  the  Christians,  without  his  assist- 
ance, seemed  incapable  of  accomplishing.  He 
caused  a  high  and  strong  shed,  the  roof  of  which  was 
fire-proof,  to  be  erected,  and  under  it  he  placed  his 
engines  and  balistae,  thus  directing  his  whole  force 
against  one  particular  tower,  instead  of  attempting 
several  breaches  at  once.  The  tower  which  he  thus 
assaulted,  was  one  of  the  loftiest  and  strongest  of 
those  which  flanked  the  walls.  It  bore  the  appella- 
tion of  the  Wicked  Tower,  from  a  tradition  current 
in  Palestine,  that  it  was  built  with  the  thirty  pieces 
of  silver  for  which  Judas  betrayed  his  master  ;  and  it 
had  hitherto  resisted  the  shock  of  Philip's  artillery. 
Strong  as  it  was,  it  began  now  to  give  way  before 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  177 

the  blows  of  the  ponderous  missiles,  hurled  from  the 
engines  of  Richard ;  some  of  which  were  stones  of 
enormous  size  and  hardness,  specially  selected  for 
the  purpose  at  Messina,  and  used  in  the  passage 
to  Palestine  as  ballast  to  the  ships.  The  wall, 
composed  of  softer  materials,  began  to  crumble  down, 
and  under  cover  of  the  shed  the  miners  advanced 
their  operations  so  far  as  to  sap  the  foundations  of 
the  tower.  Meanwhile  Richard  was  constantly  pre- 
sent, inspecting  the  progress  of  the  work  and  direct- 
ing with  his  own  hand  the  arbalist  and  mangonel. 
Almost  every  Turk  who  showed  himself  upon  the 
wall  was  struck  down,  and  one  who,  clad  in  the 
armour  of  the  deceased  Alberic  Clement,  had  the 
hardihood  to  expose  himself,  was  transfixed  by  a 
bolt  driven  from  the  cross-bow  of  Richard*. 

At  last  the  tower  gave  way  and  a  practicable  breach 
appeared.  The  English  instantly  sent  word  to  the 
other  crusaders,  but  without  waiting  for  the  arrival 
of  auxiliaries  armed  themselves  in  haste,  and,  under 
the  guidance  of  the  earl  of  Leicester  and  the  warlike 
bishop  of  Salisbury,  rushed  towards  the  breach.  To 
reach  this  they  had  to  climb  over  a  vast  quantity  of 
rubbish,  and  found  the  entrance  guarded  by  an 
innumerable  swarm  of  Turks,  who,  knowing  well 
that  the  struggle  was  for  life  or  death,  defended 
themselves  with  desperation.  Their  determined 
spirit  became  more  apparent  when  the  assailants 
mounted  to  the  breach ;  for  there  even  the  sweep  of 
their  long  and  heavy  swords  could  not  dissipate  the 
multitude,  who  repaid  them  stroke  for  stroke,  and 
crowded  forwards  to  supply  the  places  of  the  slain. 

*   Yinesauf. 
N 


378  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OF 

Meanwhile,  from  above  the  breach  stones  and  lances 
were  flung  down,  which  the  English,  engaged  hand 
to  hand  with  other  adversaries,  had  no  means  of 
avoiding  :  their  mimber  also  was  very  small  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  enemy;  and  although  the 
French  were  well  aware  of  their  situation,  such  was 
the  jealousy  of  Philip  that  he  would  not  suffer  a 
man  to  leave  his  quarters  and  join  the  fray.  The 
only  troops  who  supported  the  English  on  this  occa- 
sion were  the  Pisans,  who  behaved  with  uncommon 
gallantry  ;  but  their  assistance  was  not  sufficient  to 
crown  the  efforts  of  their  comrades  with  success.  For 
a  long  time  the  combat  thus  continued,  neither  party 
advancing  nor  giving  way,  until  the  Saracens  betook 
themselves  to  a  weapon,  which  in  their  hands  was 
more  serviceable  than  their  stores  of  stone  and  steel. 
This  was  the  Greek  fire ;  which  they  brought  in 
quantities  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  and  from  thence 
showered  it  down  copiously  upon  the  struggling 
crusaders.  It  was  beyond  human  fortitude  to 
endure  the  pain  of  this  diabolical  composition, 
which  ran  down  the  armour  of  the  Christians  in 
a  blazing  stream,  and  wherever  it  entered  a  joint 
or  rivet  burned  to  the  bone.  The  English  fell 
back  in  confusion ;  some  of  them,  rendered  frantic 
by  the  pain,  tore  off  their  armour,  and  were  instantly 
transfixed  by  the  arrows  of  the  Turks.  The  Pisans 
with  extraordinary  gallantry  made  another  attempt 
to  carry  the  breach,  but  were  speedily  driven  back 
and  forced  to  abandon  the  enterprise.  During  the 
ensuing  night  the  Turks  laboured  diligently  to 
repair  their  walls,  and  in  spite  of  the  continuous  shot 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  179 

from  the  engines  of  the  English,  succeeded  so  well  as 
to  render  the  breach  no  longer  practicable  from  below. 
Notwithstanding  this  successful  resistance,  it  be- 
came apparent  to  the  Saracens  themselves  that  the 
Christians  would  never  raise  the  siege,  and  that 
sooner  or  later  they  must  be  constrained  to  ren- 
der the  city.  By  sea  they  could  expect  no  further 
supplies,  because  the  English  and  French  fleets 
blockaded  the  harbour ;  the  most  vigorous  efforts  of 
Saladin  to  break  through  the  lines  of  the  crusaders 
and  relieve  the  garrison  had  proved  ineffectual; 
their  provisions  were  almost  exhausted;  and  the 
accidents  of  a  long  and  bloody  siege  had  terribly 
reduced  their  number.  Moreover,  they  were  griev- 
ously thwarted  in  all  they  undertook  by  clandestine 
treachery  of  a  very  singular  kind.  Whenever  any 
sally  was  meditated,  or  any  new  device  for  destroy- 
ing the  engines  proposed  by  those  in  Acre,  letters 
were  shot  from  the  walls  into  the  camp  of  the  Chris- 
tians, giving  them  notice  of  the  motion,  and  advising 
them  how  it  might  be  foiled.  That  the  writer  was  a 
person  of  some  rank  was  evident,  for  he  narrated  cir- 
cumstances which  could  only  be  known  to  the  chiefs 
of  the  garrison.  He  stated  himself'to  be  a  Christian, 
but  never  divulged  his  name ;  and  what  was  still 
more  extraordinary,  after  the  reduction  of  the  city, 
although  the  most  diligent  search  was  made,  no  trace 
of  him  could  be  found.  All  these  circumstances 
combined  to  render  the  garrison  most  desirous  of 
capitulating  upon  favourable  terms,  although  when 
they  considered  how  many  of  the  besiegers  they  had 
slain,  and  how  many  more  had  died  of  famine  and 
N  2 


180  THE  LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

disease  before  the  walls,  they  were  not  very  sanguine 
of  obtaining  this.  Accordingly,  in  pursuance  of  the 
declared  opinion  of  the  garrison,  Mestoc  and  Caracos, 
two  of  the  five  emirs  who  commanded  in  the  town, 
craved  a  parley,  and  being  admitted  to  the  presence  of 
the  kings,  offered  to  deliver  up  the  city  and  all  it  con- 
tained, on  the  sole  condition  that  the  garrison  should 
be  permitted  to  depart  free  and  unmolested.  Philip, 
it  is  stated,  was  ready  enough  to  concede  to  these 
terms,  but  Richard  positively  refused.  "  Do  you 
reckon,"  said  he,  "  my  power  so  small  that  I  cannot 
take  by  force  what  you  now  offer  as  a  favour?  Look 
at  your  shaken  walls  and  tottering  turrets,  and  then 
tell  me  if  you  require  to  evacuate  Acre  before  I 
become  master  of  the  town."  Philip  at  last  deferred 
to  his  judgment,  and  the  only  terms  upon  which  the 
garrison  could  be  allowed  to  depart  were  stated  as 
follows  : — That  the  whole  of  the  territory  in  Pales- 
tine occupied  by  the  Latins  at  the  time  of  the  depart- 
ure of  Louis  from  the  second  crusade  should  be 
restored ;  that  the  True  Cross,  which  at  the  battle  of 
Tiberias  fell  into  the  hands  of  Saladin,  should  be 
given  back,  and  that  all  the  Christian  captives 
should  be  set  free.  To  these  proposals,  which  no 
doubt  were  extravagant,  considering  that  their  fulfil- 
ment depended  upon  Saladin,  (over  whom  the  Chris- 
tians had  hitherto  gained  no  advantage,)  and  not  upon 
the  garrison,  the  emirs  replied  that  they  had  no 
power  to  enter  into  any  such  treaty  without  the  will 
and  consent  of  their  master  the  Sultan,  but  that  if 
permission  were  given  them  to  lay  these  proposals 
before  his-  feet,  they  would  do  what  in  them  lay  to 
urge  him  to  compliance.  This  being  allowed,  they 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  181 

proceeded  to  the  camp  of  the  sultan,  and  having 
stated  the  above  terms,  received  a  positive  refusal. 
Saladin  bewailed  their  unfortunate  situation,  but 
put  it  to  the  emirs  themselves,  if  they,  being  in  his 
situation,  would  have  thought  themselves  entitled  to 
buy  off  the  garrison  at  the  expense  of  the  honour  of 
the  Moslem.  The  emirs  acknowledged  the  justice 
of  his  decree,  and,  after  an  affecting  interview,  re- 
turned to  the  city*. 

On  the  same  night  Saladin  made  a  furious  attack 
upon  the  trenches,  to  the  intent  that,  whilst  the 
crusaders  were  occupied  in  defending  their  camp,  the 
garrison  of  Acre  might  have  an  opportunity  of 
quitting  the  city,  and  of  joining  their  friends  by  a 
circuitous  route.  This  stratagem,  which  was  as  well 
executed  as  planned,  would  probably  have  succeeded, 
had  not  the  mysterious  correspondent  of  the  Chris- 
tians warned  them  of  the  design,  so  that  the  sultan 
on  approaching  the  trenches  found  the  crusaders  on 
their  guard ;  and  the  garrison,  who  did  not  fail  to 
issue  forth  at  the  appointed  time,  were  surprised  to 
discover  fresh  troops  upon  the  alert,  and  were  forced 
again  to  betake  themselves  to  their  old  quarters. 
Saladin,  perceiving  that  his  real  object  was  known, 
presently  retired.  Next  day  the  English  set  fire  to 
the  wooden  props  which  they  had  -placed  in  the 
mines,  with  such  success,  that  not  only  the  Wicked 
Tower,  but  the  wall  itself  to  the  extent  of  a  rood,  fell 
to  the  ground,  and  left  the  interior  of  the  city  ex- 
posed. The  English  army  were  now  drawn  out  and 
ready  for  the  assault,  when  those  of  the  garrison 
made  a  conditional  signal  of  surrender ;  and  Richard, 
*  Bohadin. 


182  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

being  well  aware  that  should  he  persist  in  his  design 
the  Turks  would  sell  their  lives  dearly,  and  would 
probably  occasion  him  the  loss  of  some  of  his  bravest 
soldiers,  accepted  the  sign  and  returned  to  the  camp. 
The  five  emirs  now  issued  forth  and  repeated  their 
former  offer,  which  was  again  rejected;  but  permission 
was  granted  them,  as  before,  to  visit  Saladin,  and  to 
try  what  terms  they  could  wring  from  him  by  a 
representation  of  their  miserable  circumstances.  They 
returned  with  an  offer  from  the  sultan,  that  he  would 
restore  Jerusalem,  the  Holy  Cross,  and  all  the  towns 
and  castles  which  he  had  taken  in  Palestine  after 
the  battle  of  Tiberias,  when  Guy  of  Lusignan  was 
taken  prisoner.  He  offered,  moreover,  to  set  free  all 
his  Christian  captives,  upon  the  condition,  that  the 
garrison  of  Acre  should  be  dismissed,  and  that  the 
kings  of  England  and  France  should  assist  him  with 
six  thousand  horsemen  and  twenty  thousand  infantry, 
in  repelling  an  invasion  made  by  the  sons  of  his  pre- 
decessor Noureddin,  who  had  already  conquered  his 
uncle  Tokeddin,  and  possessed  themselves  of  the 
greater  part  of  Mesopotamia.  This  proposal  was  at 
once  rejected  by  the  kings,  who,  unlike  Amaury, 
refused  to  make  or  meddle  with  the  intestine  disputes 
of  the  Saracens ;  and  the  emirs,  finding  their  whole 
overtures  rejected,  returned  in  sorrow  and  despair  to 
the  city.  On  the  succeeding  day,  which  was  the 
seventh  of  July,  1191,  Philip  of  France  made  an 
assault  upon  the  town,  but  was  driven  back,  with 
the  loss  of  several  men.  On  the  eighth,  Saladin 
burned  the  town  of  Caiphas,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
bay  of  Acre,  which  had  been  for  some  time  in  the 
hands  of  the  crusaders,  and  destroyed  all  the  vine- 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  183 

yards.  Two  more  days  were  spent  in  preparation, 
and  on  the  eleventh,  the  English  and  Pisans  advanced 
to  the  breach,  when  the  garrison  again  signified  their 
willingness  to  surrender,  and  the  emirs  having  once 
more  conferred  with  the  kings,  the  following  terms 
were  arranged.  The  city  of  Acre,  with  all  it  con- 
tained, was  surrendered  to  the  Christians.  The  emirs 
pledged  themselves  to  obtain  from  Saladin  restitution 
of  the  True  Cross,  together  with  the  payment  of  two 
hundred  thousand  bezants;  and  it  was  moreover 
agreed,  that  a  thousand  Christian  captives  and  two 
hundred  knights,  to  be  selected  by  the  kings,  should 
be  set  at  liberty.  For  the  performance  of  these  articles 
the  whole  garrison  were  considered  as  hostages,  and 
thirty  days  were  allowed  for  Saladin's  performance 
of  the  same ;  wherein  if  he  failed,  on  the  tenth  day 
thereafter  the  whole  of  the  Turks  were,  life  and  limb, 
at  the  entire  disposal  of  the  conquerors. 

Thus  was  Acre  conquered,  after  a  siege  of  nearly 
three  years,  though  not  without  the  loss  of  an  infinite 
number  of  crusaders  from  all  parts  of  Europe,  who 
perished  before  its  walls,  and  the  expenditure  of  so 
much  treasure  as  drained  the  coffers  of  the  wealthiest 
countries  of  Europe.  Such  indeed  is  the  constant 
result  of  war.  When  we  look  at  the  real  value  of 
the  conquest,  and  take  into  consideration  the  vast 
loss  of  productive  life,  and  the  destruction  inevitable 
to  the  acquisition,  when  we  know  that  each  rood 
has  been  purchased  by  the  expenditure  of  a  human 
life,  and  the  tears  and  misery  of  thousands,  how 
revolting  to  a  human  mind  is  the  triumph,  and  how 
inadequate  the  gain !  These  are  considerations 
which  all  would  do  well  to  ponder  deeply,  for  the 


J84  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

moral  may  sooner  or  later  come  home  to  every  heart  ; 
and  what  would  it  profit  a  parent,  to  know  that  a 
distant  province  has  been  wrested  from  the  hands  of 
the  old  occupants  of  the  soil,  when  he  hears  that  the 
heart's-blood  of  his  child  was  shed  npon  the  battle- 
field by  which  that  province  was  won  ? 

The  crusaders  marched  into  Acre  immediately 
after  the  capitulation.  Richard  took  possession  of 
the  royal  palace,  while  Philip  was  lodged  in  the 
mansion  of  the  Templars.  According  to  an  old 
agreement,  the  city  was  divided  between  them ;  but 
the  other  crusaders  received  a  share  of  the  treasures 
found  within  its  walls.  In  order  to  give  a  distinct 
and  concise  account  of  the  siege  of  Acre,  we  have 
postponed  the  mention  of  several  important  circum- 
stances which  throw  much  light  upon  the  reciprocal 
feelings  of  the  different  crusaders,  and  especially  of 
Richard  and  Philip,  and  to  these  we  shall  now  advert. 
Very  shortly  after  the  landing  of  the  English,  Philip 
demanded  as  his  right  the  posssession  of  half  the  island 
of  Cyprus  ;  alleging  that  the  agreement  entered  into 
by  the  kings,  to  share  their  conquests  during  the 
holy  war,  applied  to  all  subjects  acquired  during  the 
expedition,  as  well  as  to  those  recovered  within  the 
boundaries  of  Palestine.  To  this  proposal  Richard 
replied  that  he  had  not  the  slightest  objection  to 
agree,  provided  Philip  would  in  like  manner  make 
over  to  him  half  of  the  territory  of  Flanders,  and  half 
the  personal  property  which  he  had  seized,  or  which 
had  fallen  to  his  lot,  after  the  decease  of  the  earl ; 
and  as  Conrad  had  formally  delivered  his  city  of 
Tyre  to  Philip,  Richard  put  in  his  claim  for  the 
moiety  of  that  also.  These  demands  on  both  sides 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  185 

were  vexatious,  and  dictated  by  a  spiteful  spirit,  yet 
Philip  seemed  inclined  to  persist,  until  the  mediation 
of  others  put  an  end  to  the  disagreement  by  deciding 
that  the  original  contract  only  referred  to  Palestine. 
No  sooner  was  this  dispute  ended  than  another  arose, 
on  account  of  the  interfering  pretensions  of  the  com- 
petitors for  the  Syrian  crown.  Guy  of  Lusignan 
rose  in  full  assembly,  and  accused  Conrad  of  having 
perverted  the  laws  and  embezzled  the  revenue  of  the 
realm  ;  to  which  the  other  replied,  that  in  exercising 
his  authority  and  collecting  the  customs,  he  merely 
availed  himself  of  the  right  which  he  derived  from 
his  wife,  the  queen  Isabella.  As  these  matters  de- 
pended entirely  upon  the  settlement  of  the  crown, 
the  Templars  and  Hospitallers  were  appointed  to 
collect  the  revenue  and  take  charge  of  the  harbour 
of  Acre,  until  such  time  as  the  kings  should  choose 
one  of  the  two  competitors.  Hot  words  ensued  in 
the  assembly,  and  Geoffry  of  Lusignan,  brother  of 
Guy,  started  fiercely  up,  defied  Conrad  as  a  perJTired 
man  and  a  traitor  to  his  brother,  and  flung  his 
gauntlet  before  his  feet.  Conrad  did  not  want  per- 
sonal courage,  indeed  he  was  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished cavaliers  of  his  day,  but  he  did  not  lift  the 
gage,  as  by  so  doing,  he  might  have  compromised 
the  character  he  claimed ;  a  sovereign  being  by  the 
laws  of  chivalry  exempt  from  accepting  the  challenge 
of  a  vassal.  He  eyed  Geoffry  with  a  scornful  glance, 
and,  without  saying  a  word,  left  the  assembly.  Some 
of  the  crusaders  (probably  the  English)  began  to 
scoff  at  and  to  call  him  traitor,  but  none  dared  to 
lay  hands  upon  him  ;  for  his  popularity  in  the  camp 
was  great,  and  the  first  blow  aimed  at  him  would 


186  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES    OP 

have  been  the  signal  for  the  Templars,  Genoese,  and 
native  Latins  to  rise  to  arms.  Indignant  at  the 
insult,  he  retired  to  Tyre,  and  did  not  return  until 
the  siege  of  Acre  was  ended,  when  Philip  requested 
his  presence  as  a  personal  favour,  and  treated  him 
with  the  most  marked  distinction.  The  pause  which 
ensued  between  the  reduction  of  the  city  and  the 
day  fixed  for  the  ransom  of  the  garrison  seemed  a 
proper  time  for  settling  the  disputes  for  the  throne, 
as  while  this  important  point  remained  unsettled  no 
unanimity  could  be  expected,  and  without  unanimity 
the  recapture  of  Jerusalem  was  a  vain  and  hopeless 
attempt.  After  much  consultation  and  various 
meetings,  at  which  the  partisans  of  either  candidate 
disputed  long  and  loudly,  it  was  finally  agreed  that 
Guy  of  Lusignan  should  for  the  remainder  of  his  life 
continue  king  of  Jerusalem,  .but  that  his  children,  if 
he  should  marry  again,  could  have  no  claim  to  the 
succession;  that  the  reversion  of  the  crown  should 
remain  to  the  marquis  Conrad  and  his  children  by 
Isabella,  and  that  in  the  meantime  he  should  draw 
half  the  revenues  of  the  realm,  besides  those  of  Tyre, 
Sidon,  and  Baruth,  which  however,  were  to  be  held 
of  the  crown ;  and  that  Geoffry  of  Lusignan,  on  the 
same  condition,  should  possess  the  counties  of  Jaffa 
and  Caesarea.  Under  all  the  circumstances,  this 
appears  to  have  been  an  equitable  adjustment ;  it 
did  not,  however,  satisfy  Conrad,  who  knew  his 
superiority  to  his  weak  and  unlucky  rival,  and 
waited  only  for  the  time  when  Richard  should  depart 
from  Palestine  to  make  himself  master  of  the  whole. 
These  matters  being  so  far  arranged,  Philip  pre- 
sented the  marquis  with  his  moiety  of  the  city  of 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  187 

Acre,  and  on  the  same  day,  communicated  to  Richard 
his  intention  of  returning  forthwith  to  Europe, 
craving  at  the  same  time  his  assent  to  a  step  so 
likely  to  affect  the  interests  of  all  concerned.  Ri- 
chard's reply  was  short  and  scornful.  "  The  king 
of  France,"  said  he,  "  is  my  liege  lord,  but  I  am 
bound  to  say  that  it  will  be  an  eternal  disgrace  and 
infamy  to  him  if  he  leaves  Palestine  before  he  has 
accomplished  the  work  for  the  sake  of  which  he 
came  hither.  Nevertheless,  if  he  feels  himself 
infirm  and  weak,  or  fears  to  die  in  the  Holy 
Land,  let  him  go !  * "  Philip  still  persisted  in 
his  resolution,  which,  when  divulged,  caused  the 
utmost  dismay  and  consternation  among  the  crusa- 
ders, particularly  among  those  who  were  native  to 
the  soil,  and  whose  interests  were  identified  with 
the  recapture  of  Palestine.  They  considered  his 
defection  as  the  first  of  a  series  of  abandonments 
which  should  leave  them  again  without  defence  at 
the  mercy  of  the  Infidel ;  and  they  used  every  means 
in  their  power,  by  tears,  prayers,  and  supplications, 
to  turn  him  from  his  purpose.  It  was  all  in  vain. 
A  more  lucrative  object  than  the  recovery  of  Jeru- 
salem lured  the  king  of  France  back  to  Europe.  A 
larger  conquest  than  that  of  the  Sepulchre  awaited 
him  at  home,  and  having  satisfied  his  conscience  by 
striking  a  single  though  ineffectual  blow  for  the 
cause  of  Christendom,  he  now  hastened  to  reward 
his  virtues  by  spoiling  the  territories  of  his  neigh- 
bours. This  violent  haste  on  the  part  of  his  rival 
and  unfriend  seemed  rather  suspicious  to  Richard, 
who,  although  in  his  adopted  country  Palestine,  did 
*  Hovedcn. 


188  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

not  quite  forget  the  contiguity  of  Normandy,  or  the 
narrowness  of  the  sea  which  separates  Britain  from 
France.  Before  therefore  giving  his  consent  to  his 
departure,  he  compelled  Philip  to  take  an  oath,  that 
he  would  protect  the  lands  and  subjects  of  his  cru- 
sading companion  until  the  return  of  the  latter  from 
Palestine,  and  that  he  would  neither  do  injury  to 
them  himself,  nor  suffer  others  to  molest  them  in 
any  manner  whatsoever.  Having  thus  freed  himself 
from  his  first  obligation  by  incurring  a  second,  Philip 
made  hasty  preparations  for  his  departure.  Part  of 
his  troops  he  left  under  the  command  of  the  duke  of 
Burgundy,  who  thenceforward  acted  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  France  ;  part  he  sent  to  the  assistance 
of  Raymond,  prince  of  Antioch,  under  the  command 
of  Robert  de  Quincy :  and  on  the  thirty-first  of  July 
he  set  sail  for  Tyre,  taking  with  him  those  prisoners 
of  the  garrison  of  Acre  who  had  fallen  to  his  share, 
and  whom  he  made  over  to  the  marquis  Conrad. 
On  the  third  of  August  he  left  Tyre,  and  proceeded 
homewards,  carrying  with  him  the  maledictions  of 
all  the  crusaders,  save  those  of  his  own  country,  and 
heartily  despised  by  all  for  his  faint-heartedness  and 
want  of  resolution.  Richard  considered  the  abduc- 
tion of  the  prisoners  as  a  breach  of  the  articles  made 
with  Saladin,  and  not  without  justice,  since,  if  that 
prince  should  implement  his  part  of  the  agreement, 
he,  as  generalissimo  of  the  Christian  army,  was  bound 
to  set  the  whole  of  the  garrison  of  Acre  free.  This 
he  could  not  do  whilst  the  marquis  retained  the 
custody  of  the  prisoners  allotted  to  Philip,  and  he 
therefore  sent  to  Tyre,  desiring  that  these  might  be 
returned  without  delay.  On  receiving  a  refusal,  he 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  189 

burst  into  a  violent  passion,  and  swore  that  he  would 
go  to  Tyre  in  person  and  fetch  them  back.  From 
this  rash  step  he  was  dissuaded  by  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, who  claimed  and  received  the  prisoners  as 
the  representative  of  his  king  ;  and  Richard,  finding 
no  further  obstacle  in  his  path,  awaited  with  stern 
patience  the  day  fixed  for  the  ransom  or  death  of  the 
captive  Saracens,  which  fell  upon  the  twentieth  of 
August.  The  tenth  of  August  came,  but  neither 
the  money,  the  True  Cross,  nor  the  Christian  pri- 
soners appeared,  whereupon  a  council  was  held,  by 
which  the  garrison  were  sentenced  to  be  decapitated ; 
and  their  resolutions  were  conveyed  to  Saladin,  in 
order  that  before  the  other  ten  days  expired,  he 
might  implement  his  agreement  and  save  the  lives  of 
his  friends.  The  reply  of  the  sultan  was  this,  "  If  a 
hair  of  any  of  my  men  be  harmed,  I  will  cut  off  the 
head  of  every  Christian  in  my  power," — an  ominous 
answer,  and  one  which  was  destined  to  be  fulfilled 
to  the  letter.  On  the  fourteenth  of  the  same  month, 
Richard  removed  from  behind  his  entrenchments, 
and  pitched  his  camp  on  a  spot  nearer  the  Saracen 
army.  The  same  day  he  received  ambassadors  from 
Saladin,  who  offered  him  gifts  of  value,  with  a  request 
that  he  would  further  prolong  the  day  of  ransom. 
This  Richard  positively  refused,  but  returned  the 
presents,  and  desired  the  messengers  to  inform  their 
master  that  he  would  most  assuredly  put  the  sentence 
into  execution,  unless  the  ransom  was  paid  and  the 
other  stipulations  fulfilled  by  the  day  appointed. 
Saladin,  on  receiving  this  message,  ordered  all  his 
captives  to  be  led  forth  on  the  plain  in  sight  of  the 
Christian  army,  which  being  done,  the  unfortunate 


190  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

victims  were  decapitated — a  horrible  spectacle,  which 
so  inflamed  the  indignation  of  the  crusaders,  that 
they  instantly  rushed  to  arms ;  and,  the  Saracens 
being  as  ready  to  meet  them,  a  furious  combat  en- 
sued, in  which  neither  party  gained  any  material 
advantage,  but  fought  until  separated  by  the  ap- 
proach of  night.  Richard,  although  frantic  at  the 
cruel  conduct  of  Saladin,  did  not  take  immediate 
vengeance,  but  with  scrupulous  honour  waited  until 
the  stipulated  term  had  expired.  That  day  being 
arrived,  he  also  led  out  his  prisoners  in  sight  of  the 
Saracens,  and  subjected  them  to  the  same  fate  as 
that  which  two  days  before  had  befallen  the  Chris- 
tians. At  the  same  time  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
slew  his  prisoners  within  the  city.  Five  thousand 
are  said  to  have  been  put  to  death  on  this  occasion, 
and  only  a  few  of  the  emirs  and  other  principal 
chiefs  were  spared,  in  order  that  they  might  be 
thereafter  exchanged  for  crusaders  of  the  highest 
class.  So  ended  this  scene  of  mutual  butchery,  dis- 
graceful to  both  parties  and  to  both  kings,  who  could 
thus  impeach  the  native  nobility  of  their  souls  *. 
The  atrocities  committed  upon  the  bodies  of  the  slain 
are  almost  too  shocking  to  be  narrated*!*. 

*  It-  is  proper  to  state  that  I  have  here  followed  the  account 
given  by  the  Christian  writers,  especially  by  Hoveden,  who  is  very 
clear  and  distinct  in  his  statements.  Bohadin,  the  Arabian  his- 
torian, throws  much  of  the  blame  upon  Richard.  He  assert* 
that  Saladin  was  willing  to  perform  his  agreement,  provided  proper 
hostages  for  delivery  of  the  prisoners  had  been  given,  but  that  the 
arrogance  of  the  English  was  the  cause  of  the  sultan's  failure.  As, 
however,  Bohadin  makes  no  mention  of  the  previous  slaughter  of 
the  Christians,  which  seems  to  rest  upon  good  authority,  I  am  in- 
clined to  adhere  to  the  previous  version  of  the  tragedy. 
f  See  Note  B. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  191 

The  fortifications  of  Acre  having  been  repaired, 
and  the  city  garrisoned,  Richard  determined  to  pur- 
sue his  march  to  Ascalon  by  the  sea-shore,  on  account 
of  the  advantage  of  transporting  stores  for  the  army 
by  his  ships.  It  was,  however,  no  easy  matter  to 
force  the  crusaders  from  Acre.  For  the  first  time 
after  two  years  of  incalculable  hardship  and  toil, 
they  felt  themselves  placed  in  a  situation  of  compar- 
ative comfort  and  luxury.  The  rich  wines  of  the 
East,  and  other  more  enervating  temptations,  com- 
bined to  render  the  period  of  their  sojourn  there  so 
delicious,  that  they  had  hardly  courage  to  face  the 
fatigues  of  a  new  campaign.  The  appearance  of 
even  the  gravest  and  most  temperate  knights  under- 
went a  remarkable  change  ;  the  bronzed  face,  firm 
step,  and  sinewy  frame  of  the  warrior  were  gradually 
altered  into  the  ruddy  cheek,  listless  gait,  and  loose 
figure  of  the  bacchanal ;  the  old  order  and  military 
discipline  were  relaxed  or  forgotten;  and  the  aggres- 
sions of  the  Turks,  who  still  hovered  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, were  no  longer  repelled  with  the  former 
vigour  and  alacrity.  It  required  all  the  energy  of 
Richard  to  draw  his  forces  from  the  town  ;  nor  was 
tliis  accomplished  without  largesses,  entreaties,  and 
threats.  No  women  were  allowed  to  accompany 
the  army  on  its  march  ;  even  Richard  set  a  salutary 
example  by  leaving  his  queen,  his  sister,  and  the 
Oypriot  princess  at  Acre,  under  the  charge  of  Ber- 
tram de  Verdun.  When  all  the  arrangements  were 
finally  completed,  the  Christian  army  began  their 
march ;  Richard  leading  the  van,  and  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy bringing  up  the  rear.  As  they  wound  along 
the  sea-shore  they  observed  large  masses  of  Turkish 


192  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

cavalry  gathering  at  the  foot  of  the  inland  mountains, 
and  at  times  a  single  mounted  Arab  would  gallop 
up  within  how-shot  of  their  line,  pace  leisurely  along- 
side, as  if  to  spy  their  weakness  or  strength,  and  then 
ride  off  to  join  his  companions.  These  indications 
caused  the  crusaders  to  keep  as  closely  together  as 
possible,  and  not  to  allow  any  straggling  from  the 
ranks.  Order  was  thus  preserved  so  long  as  the 
ground  remained  tolerably  open;  but  before  reaching 
Caiphas,  the  nearest  town  to  the  southward  of  Acre, 
the  road  became  extremely  narrow  and  winding, 
owing  to  the  inequalities  of  the  ground,  so  that  the 
line  of  march  was  considerably  lengthened,  and  the 
van  in  some  measure  separated  and  concealed  from 
the  rear.  Richard  and  his  division  met  with  no 
opposition  on  the  road;  but  whilst  the  duke  of 
Burgundy  and  his  men,  with  whom  were  the  bag- 
gage carts  and  stores,  were  toiling  through  the  pass, 
a  crowd  of  Saracen  horsemen  bore  down  upon  them 
unawares.  Some  drove  away  the  guard  from  the 
waggons,  and  commenced  to  plunder,  whilst  others, 
levelling  their  lances,  made  an  impetuous  charge  upon 
the  Christians,  whose  situation  prevented  them  from 
acting  in  a  body.  The  cries  and  shouts  from  the 
rear  reached  the  ears  of  some  of  the  knights  who 
already  had  surmounted  the  pass.  These  came 
galloping  back  in  parties  of  two  and  three,  and  pushed 
boldly  into  the  combat.  Still  the  Turks,  being  more 
numerous  and  lighter  mounted,  had  the  advantage, 
and  more  than  one  warrior  of  name  lay  gasping  on 
the  ground.  At  the  commencement  of  the  attack  a 
messenger  was  despatched  to  Richard,  but  he  was 
already  so  far  advanced  with  his  troops  that  some 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  193 

time  necessarily  elapsed  before  he  could  hasten  to 
the  spot,  and  the  injury  to  the  Christians  would 
have  been  very  serious  had  not  William  de  Barres, 
the  same  knight  whose  behaviour  in  Sicily  excited 
the  displeasure  of  Cceur-de-Lion,  come  up  at  this 
critical  juncture,  and  by  his  own  great  prowess  and 
exertions  kept  the  enemy  at  bay,  until  the  English 
monarch  with  some  of  his  best  knights  appeared 
emerging  from  the  pass.  The  well  known  apparition 
of  Richard  was  the  signal  for  the  dispersion  of  the 
Saracens,  who  presently  vanished  and  left  the  army 
to  pursue  its  march  unmolested.  Richard  paid  De 
Barres  the  compliments  due  to  his  valour,  and  from 
that  day  sought  to  efface  by  every  mark  of  kindness 
and  condescension  the  memory  of  his  previous  harsh- 
ness. 

After  this  skirmish  the  army  proceeded  to  Cai- 
phas  without  encountering  any  active  opposition, 
although-  the  cavalry  of  the  enemy  were  seen  at 
intervals  approaching,  as  if  to  make  another  onset, 
whenever  the  narrowness  or  steepness  of  the  road 
rendered  it  necessary  for  the  Christians  to  defile. 
As,  however,  the  utmost  order  and  caution  were  pre- 
served during  the  march,  and  as  the  audacity  of  the 
Turks  had  taught  every  one  to  keep  on  the  alert, 
they  reached  Caiphas  in  safety,  and  still  pursuing  the 
route  by  the  sea- shore  directed  their  steps  towards 
Cesarea.  The  duties  of  acting  as  rear  and  van- 
guard, were  performed  alternately  by  the  knights  of 
the  different  nations.  The  English,  French,  Temp- 
lars and  Hospitallers  by  turns  preceded  the  advance 
or  guarded  the  rear  of  the  army.  When  they 
encamped  for  the  night,  an  officer  stationed  in  the 


194  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

midst  gave  the  signal  to  the  heralds,  who  proclaimed 
aloud  the  watch-word,  "Save  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ! " 
— a  sentence  which  was  instantly  taken  up  and 
repeated  by  the  mouths  of  thousands,  who,  falling 
upon  their  knees  and  raising  their  hands  to  heaven, 
prayed  that -God  would  vouchsafe  them  the  victory 
and  pardon  their  manifold  transgressions.  The 
fatigue  they  encountered  on  their  march  was  great. 
The  knights  found  the  weight  and  heat  of  their 
armour  almost  insupportable  beneath  the  blaze  of 
an  eastern  sun.  At  some  places  they  had  to  hew 
their  way  through  woods  and  thickets  of  the  densest 
and  most  intricate  growth,  and  at  night  they  were 
tormented  by  the  attacks  of  insects  and  tarantulas, 
whose  bite  was  so  venomous  as  to  cause  alarming 
inflammation.  Still  the  army  moved  steadily  on,  the 
fleet  sailing  all  the  while  within  sight,  and  in  like 
manner  the  Saracens  moved  parallel  with  them,  but 
more  to  the  interior.  At  last  they  arrived  at 
Cesarea,  which  the  Turks  had  visited  before  them, 
and  had  destroyed  the  fortifications  and  burned 
part  of  the  town.  The  crusaders  therefore  encamped 
by  the  side  of  a  stream  called  the  Crocodile  river, 
which  flows  close  to  Cesarea,  and  the  very  same 
night  had  ocular  demonstration  of  the  propriety  of 
its  name,  as  two  of  the  soldiers,  while  bathing,  were 
devoured  by  those  rapacious  monsters.  Here  Richard 
remained  for  some  time,  to  disembark  his  stores  from 
the  fleet.  He  also  sent  several  ships  back  to  Acre  for 
reinforcements,  and  these  arrived  without  any  acci- 
dent. The  number  of  the  Christian  army,  horse  and 
foot  included,  amounted  to  a  hundred  thousand  men, 
and  being  most  of  them  tried  and  hardy  soldiers  were 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  195 

a  very  effective  force,  and  capable  of  any  enterprise, 
had  there  existed  among  them  a  regular  commissariat 
department.  But  our  ancestors  were  better  acquainted 
with  the  more  practical  part  of  war,  than  with  the 
complicated  arrangements  which  modern  science  con- 
siders absolutely  indispensable  to  secure  success.  Thus 
while  passing  through  a  rich  and  fertile  country,  they 
fared  indifferently  well,  feasting  without  much  nicety 
on  the  cattle  they  found,  and  on  the  natural  produce 
of  the  soil.  But  when  engaged  in  any  extended 

O     O  ^ 

siege,  like  that  of  Acre,  where  they  were  constantly 
liable  to  delays  and  disappointment  in  their  sxipplies, 
or  when  passing  through  a  barren  and  deserted  region, 
they  were  always  exposed  to  the  miseries  of  want 
and  famine,  and  their  large  numbers  only  served  to 
aggravate  the  misfortune.  Hence  it  was  a  favourite 
practice  of  the  Turks,  as  we  have  already  seen,  to 
burn  the  towns  and  villages,  to  drive  away  the  cat- 
tle, and  to  destroy  the  vineyards  on  the  path  of  the 
crusaders,  and  they  often  contrived  by  these  means 
to  embarrass  their  enemies  more,  than  if  they  had 
fallen  upon  them  sword  in  hand. 

Whilst  Richard  halted  at  Cesarea  to  complete  his 
arrangements,  the  Saracens  having  in  the  meantime 
received  large  reinforcements  became  more  trouble- 
some, and  repeatedly  advanced  close  to  the  Christian 
army  discharging  their  arrows  into  the  camp.  This 
confidence  on  the  part  of  the  enemy  created  a  general 
expectation  among  the  crusaders  that  an  engagement 
might  shortly  be  expected,  and  accordingly  before 
they  had  advanced  far  on  their  way  to  Joppa,  a 
large  body  of  cavalry  appeared,  who  kept  hovering  on 
their  flank,  and  seemed  to  invite  the  attack.  The 
o  2 


196  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

main  body  of  the  crusaders  steadily  continued  their 
march,  but  some  squadrons  were  detached,  and  sent 
against  the  enemy  in  order  to  discover  whether  these 
manoeuvres  were  merely  a  part  of  their  constant 
system  of  annoyance,  or  the  prelude  to  a  general 
battle.  The  result  was  a  short  skirmish,  in  which 
was  slain  the  emir  who  commanded  the  Saracens, 
a  man  of  gigantic  stature  and  prodigious  strength, 
who  carried  a  lance  which  is  described  to  have  been 
twice  as  heavy  as  the  spears  of  the  crusaders,  and 
who  although  without  defensive  armour,  had  the 
hardihood  to  meet  the  charge  of  the  mail-clad 
knights.  The  fall  of  this  champion  so  astounded 
and  terrified  his  followers,  that  they  fled  precipi- 
tately, and  the  Christians  advanced  as  before.  They 
were  now  compelled  to  deviate  from  their  course, 
and  pursue  an  inland  track,  on  account  of  the  innu- 
merable thickets  that  grew  along  the  sea-shore,  and 
perpetually  obstructed  their  progress.  This  gave  a 
fresh  advantage  to  the  Turks,  who  could  now  attack 
them  upon  both  sides,  and  accordingly  additional 
caution  was  observed ;  the  squadrons  were  drawn 
closer  together,  and  an  advanced  guard  sent  forward 
to  prevent  the  possibility  of  an  ambuscade.  The 
country  they  now  traversed  was  bare  and  barren, 
affording  neither  pasture  to  their  horses,  nor  pro- 
visions to  themselves.  Moreover  the  Saracens  de- 
scended from  the  hills  in  larger  numbers  than  they 
had  yet  exhibited,  and  plied  their  arrows  and  lances 
so  dextrously,  that  a  vast  number  of  horses  were 
killed.  The  Templars,  who  brought  up  the  rear, 
suffered  in  this  way  such  severe  loss  that  they  were 
almost  driven  to  desperation.  The  count  of  Saint 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  197 

Paul,  who  was  with  them,  had  hardly  one  horse 
left  him,  yet  notwithstanding  he  exerted  himself  so 
much,  as  to  gain  the  applause  of  the  whole  army. 
Richard,  also,  during  this  trying  day  put  forth  all 
his  powers,  riding  from  one  division  of  his  troops  to 
another,  cheering  and  encouraging  his  men,  and  ever 
and  anon,  whether  supported  or  not,  dashing  out 
against  the  enemy,  and  striking  down  all  whom  he 
could  reach.  Even  he  did  not  escape  with  impunity, 
for  he  was  wounded,  although  slightly,  in  the  side 
by  an  arrow.  So  incessant  was  the  discharge,  that 
the  historian  affirms,  on  looking  back  at  the  ground 
over  which  the  crusaders  passed,  there  was  nowhere 
a  space  of  four  feet  where  an  arrow  or  a  lance  did 
not  lie.*  This  skirmishing  lasted  for  the  whole  of 
the  day ;  at  night  the  Saracens  retired,  and  the 
weary  Christians  encamped  beside  a  river,  the  water 
of  which  was  brackish  and  unpalatable.  Here  they 
remained  for  two  days,  and  were  so  pressed  for  want 
of  provisions,  that  the  soldiers  began  to  quarrel  for 
the  carcases  of  the  dead  horses.  Richard  on  hear- 
ing this  caused  proclamation  to  be  made,  that  he 
would  bestow  a  live  horse  upon  every  one  who 
should  give  up  the  body  of  his  dead  steed  for  the 
use  of  the  others,  and  accordingly  horse-flesh  became 
the  staple  food  of  the  camp ;  and  as  Vinesauf,  who 
was  probably  a  sharer  in  the  banquet,  quaintly  re- 
marks, "  Hunger  being  an  excellent  sauce,  it  was 
pronounced  not  only  tolerable,  but  delicious  fare." 

During  these  two  days  they  received  no  annoy- 
ance from  the  Saracens,  which  surprised  them  not 
a  little,  as  they  had  confidently  expected  and  pre- 
*  Vinesauf. 


]98  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

pared  for  an  attack  upon  their  camp.  On  resuming 
their  march,  therefore,  they  advanced  with  the 
greater  caution,  as  their  course  inclining  towards 
the  sea,  lay  through  an  extensive  forest  in  which 
they  were  apprehensive  of  an  ambuscade.  No  traces 
of  such  appeared,  but  as  they  approached  the  mouth 
of  a  river  near  Assur,  their  scouts  brought  intelli- 
gence that  the  Saracens,  to  the  number  of  three 
hundred  thousand,  were  encamped  on  a  plain  at  a 
short  distance,  and  appeared  determined  to  make 
a  stand.  This  prospect  roused  the  spirits  of  the 
soldiers,  who  desired  nothing  more  earnestly  than 
an  opportunity  of  measuring  their  force,  with  that  of 
the  Saracens,  in  a  fair  and  open  battle.  They  enter- 
tained no  doubt  of  the  results,  however  superior  the 
numbers  of  the  enemy  might  be,  and  hoped  that  by 
striking  one  severe  and  effectual  blow,  they  would 
be  delivered  from  the  daily  recurrence  of  that  system 
of  annoyance  by  which  they  had  suffered  so  much. 
With  joyful  alacrity,  therefore,  they  heard  the  order 
issued,  that  every  man  should  prepare  himself  for  a 
pitched  battle  on  the  morrow,  and  their  few  dispo- 
sitions being  made,  they  lay  down  on  the  field,  and 
slept  until  the  blast  of  the  trumpet  woke  them  to  a 
clay  of  victory  and  blood. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  199 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Buttle  of  Assur,  and  Defeat  of  the  Saracens — Death  of  James 
D'Avesnes — Arrival  of  the  Crusaders  at  Joppa  —  Saladin  de- 
stroys the  Fortifications  of  Ascalon — Adventure  of  Richard — 
Combat  between  the  Templars  and  Saracens — Negotiations  of 
Conrad  and  Richard  with  Saladin  —  Quarrels  amongst  the  Cru- 
saders— Their  advance  to  Ascalon— Defection  of  the  Dukes  of 
Austria  and  Burgundy — The  French  retire  to  Acre — Disputes 
of  the  Pisans  and  Genoese — Alarming  intelligence  from  England 
and  proposed  Return  of  Richard — Conrad  of  Montserrat  and 
Tyre  elected  King  of  Jerusalem — Account  of  the  Hausassiz — 
Conrad  murdered  by  the  Emissaries  of  the  Old  Man  of  the 
Mountain — Marriage  of  Count  Henry  of  Champagne  with  Isa- 
bella, whereby  he  acquires  the  Crown  of  Jerusalem. 

EARLY  in  the  morning  Richard  drew  np  his  forces 
in  battle  array,  and  made  his  dispositions  as  follows: 
—  First  of  all  marched  the  Templars,  under  their 
Grand  Master,  Robert  de  Sablay.  Then  followed 
the  main  body,  the  right  of  which  was  commanded 
by  James  d'Avesnes,  a  most  esteemed  soldier,  under 
whom  were  the  Danes,  Brabanters,  and  Hollanders. 
Richard  in  person  led  the  centre,  consisting  of  the 
English  and  Norman  troops,  and  with  him  was  Guy 
of  Lusignan.  The  French  and  Germans  occupied 
the  left,  Tinder  the  command  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy and  Leopold  of  Austria,  and  the  Hospitallers 
brought  up  the  rear.  As  the  Saracens  were  infi- 
nitely more  numerous  than  the  crusaders,  no  doubt 
was  entertained  by  the  latter  that  their  progress 
would  be  opposed.  Much  however  to  their  asto- 
nishment, the  huge  masses  of  cavalry  which  dark- 
ened the  plain  before  them  began  gradually  to  move 
off  towards  the  mountains,  leaving  the  passage  free  ; 
at  the  same  time  it  was  observed  that  as  the  Sara- 


200  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

cens  took  their  new  ground,  they  formed  into  a  sort 
of  crescent,  over  against  the  left  wing,  and  Richard, 
who  was  more  apprehensive  of  an  attack  upon  this, 
than  on  any  other  quarter,  inasmuch  as  he  had  no 
great  opinion  of  the  trustworthiness  of  the  duke 
of  Burgundy,  despatched  his  nephew  the  count  of 
Champagne  with  some  select  troops  to  form  the 
extremity  of  the  left,  and  watch  the  operations 
of  the  enemy.  It  was  now  completely  evident  that 
the  Saracens  intended  to  follow  their  old  mode  of 
attack,  and  to  annoy  the  army  on  their  march,  with- 
out hazarding  a  general  engagement.  This  Richard 
determined  if  possible  to  prevent ;  he  had  suffered 
so  much  since  his  departure  from  Acre,  by  this 
petty  and  continuous  warfare,  that  he  was  resolved 
to  strike  such  a  blow  as  would  effectually  cripple 
the  Saracens,  and  relieve  himself  from  a  torment 
exactly  similar  to  that  which  a  traveller  endures, 
when  a  swarm  of  hornets  circle  round  his  head, 
buzzing  in  his  ear,  and  fretting  his  temper  by  their 
continual  attempts  to  sting.  His  scheme,  therefore, 
was  to  proceed  leisurely  onward,  as  if  indifferent  to 
their  attacks,  until  the  greater  part  of  the  enemy 
had  gathered  round  them,  when  he  trusted,  by  a 
vigorous  and  simultaneous  charge,  to  force  the  Sara- 
cens into  such  a  position,  that  it  would  be  worse 
policy  for  them  to  fly  than  to  fight.  In  this  case  he 
thought  he  could  confidently  reckon  on  the  result. 
Strict  orders  were  therefore  issued,  that  no  one, 
however  great  the  provocation  might  be,  should 
presume  to  commence  the  attack,  but  that  all 
should  keep  in  their  ranks  until  the  signal  was 
given,  by  two  distinct  blasts  of  the  trumpet  from 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  201 

the  van,  the  centre,  and  the  rear,  when  the  knights 
of  each  squadron  were  at  liberty  to  address  them- 
selves against  the  nearest  of  the  foe.  The  army 
accordingly  began  their  march  as  leisurely  as  if  no 
enemy  were  in  sight,  though  no  doubt  many  a  heart 
beat  fast  and  anxiously,  and  many  an  eye  was 
turned  to  the  hills  whereon  the  dark  masses  of  the 
enemy  hung,  fearful  and  threatening,  as  a  cloud 
charged  with  the  artillery  of  thunder. 

A  movement  was  at  last  descried  among  the 
ranks  of  the  Saracens,  and  as  precipitately  as  the 
waters  rush  down  the  channel  of  a  winter  torrent, 
when  a  waterspout  has  broken  among  the  mountains, 
came  ten  thousand  of  the  Turkish  horsemen,  in  full 
career,  the  atabals  clashing,  plumes  waving,  and 
banners  streaming,  as  they  charged.  The  left  wing 
instantly  faced  about  to  receive  them,  but  it  was 
not  the  wish  of  the  Saracens  to  penetrate  the  line. 
When  almost  upon  the  point  of  the  spears,  they 
wheeled  round,  flung  their  lances  and  javelins  into 
the  midst  of  the  crusaders,  (whose  array  was  so 
dense  that,  according  to  the  historian,  an  apple 
could  not  have  fallen  amongst  them  without  touch- 
ing either  man  or  horse,)  and  made  way  for  a  body 
of  savage  warriors,  Bedouins,  from  the  Arabian 
desert,  expert  archers,  whose  constant  discharge 
did  much  damage  to  the  horses.  While  these 
hung  upon  the  left  wing,  the  cavalry,  now  doubled 
in  number,  fell  upon  the  rear  and  right  wing,  whilst 
the  vanguard  and  main  body  of  the  Christians  re- 
mained almost  unmolested.  The  scene  was  most 
terrific.  In  the  middle  of  the  plain,  the  crusading 
army  closely  packed,  and  to  all  appearance  a  mere 


202  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

handful  when  compared  with  their  foes,  stepped 
slowly  forwards,  the  rear  ranks  retiring  with  their 
faces  to  the  enemy ;  whilst  on  three  sides  thousands  on 
thousands  of  Saracen  horsemen  rode  impetuously 
round,  brandishing  their  long  lances,  shooting  their 
arrows,  and  casting  their  javelins  against  the  iron 
phalanx.  All  at  once  the  confusion  ceased,  the  Turks 
fell  back  upon  either  side,  and  at  the  head  of  a 
fresh  and  magnificent  body  of  cavalry,  the  sultan 
galloped  into  the  field — 

"  See  where  amidst  the  battle's  rolling  tide 
King  Saladin  comes  on!     Around  him  wheel 
Emirs  and  princes,  and  the  chiefest  flower 
Of  all  the  Moslem  chivalry,  and  each 
Bears  him  as  if  he  were  a.  kin^  himself 
To  all  except  the  Sultan  !     How  their  steeds 
Come  plunging  through  that  heavy  wall  of  dust, 
Which  closes  as  they  pass,  and  canopies 
The  rearward  of  the  army  !" 

The  Hospitallers  bore  the  brunt  of  this  new  attack 
with  that  fortitude  which  they  always  displayed, 
although  their  situation  was  now  perilous  in  the 
extreme.  Many  of  their  horses  were  slain,  and  the 
dismounted  riders,  cased  in  complete  armour,  (a 
most  unfit  garb  for  a  pedestrian,)  were  forced  to 
keep  pace  with  their  mounted  brethren.  Some 
of  them  attempted  to  use  the  cross-bow,  but  with 
little  effect,  owing  to  the  narrowness  of  the  space 
in  which  they  moved.  Indeed  during  the  whole  of 
this  battle  the  crusaders  received  almost  no  assist- 
ance from  their  archers.  A  body  of  these  were 
stationed  on  the  left  wing,  but  the  first  onset  of  the 
Turkish  cavalry  drove  them  in  upon  the  main  body, 
where  they  were  of  little  service.  All  this  while 
no  charge  had  been  made  by  any  of  the  Christian 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  203 

knights  in  consequence  of  the  order  issued,  but 
the  Hospitallers,  now  furious  at  finding  themselves 
attacked  so  fiercely  without  the  power  to  make 
reprisals,  sent  word  to  Richard  that  it  was  utterly 
impossible  for  them  to  support  any  longer  the 
violence  of  the  infidels  unless  they  were  allowed  to 
charge.  Cceur  de  Lion,  who  thought  the  time  was 
not  yet  come,  entreated  them  to  contain  themselves 
for  a  little  period  longer;  and  this  they  did,  until  the 
Saracens,  grown  bolder,  advanced  close  to  the  re- 
treating ranks,  and  began  to  interchange  with  the 
knights  blows  of  the  sword  and  mace,  and  even 

O  ' 

attempted  to  .penetrate  their  array.  This  the  Hos- 
pitallers could  not  endure.  Never  since  their  order 
was  founded  had  they  been  brought  to  such  a  pass, 
as  patiently  to  endure  the  blows  of  the  infidels  with- 
out charging  them  in  return.  A  loud  murmur  of 
discontent  spread  through  the  ranks,  and  one  of  the 
brethren,  Gamier  by  name,  signified  to  the  Grand 
Master,  Godfrey  de  Duisson,  the  resolution  of  the 
rest.  The  Master  instantly  rode  forward  to  Richard 
and  communicated  his  situation.  Still  the  king 
delayed  to  give  the  order  to  charge.  His  intention 
probably  was  to  entice  the  Saracens  to  surround  his 
army,  in  which  case,  no  doubt,  they  might  have 
been  more  completely  routed;  but  if  so,  his  plans 
were  frustrated  by  the  impetuosity  of  two  knights, 
the  marshal  of  the  Hospital,  and  Baldwin  de  Carreo, 
a  subject  and  companion  of  his  own.  These  men, 
galled  beyond  endurance  by  the  pertinacity  of  the 
Turks,  set  spurs  to  their  horses  and  charged  into 
the  thickest  of  the  assailants.  They  instantly  dis- 
appeared from  the  view  of  their  friends,  but  the 


204  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

gathering  crowd,  and  the  Christian  war-cry  which 
sounded  loud  above  the  clash  and  clang  of  the 

O 

Turkish  music,  indicated  the  spot  where  these 
brave  hearts  were  contending,  unsupported,  amongst 
thousands.  "  Come  what  may,"  cried  Godfrey  de 
Duisson,  "  we  must  not  leave  our  brethren  to  perish  !" 
and  placing  his  spear  in  the  rest,  he  dashed  into  the 
press,  followed  by  the  whole  renowned  chivalry  of 
Saint  John.  Almost  at  the  same  moment,  James 
D'Avesnes  on  the  right,  and  Henry  of  Champagne 
on  the  left  wing,  rushed  forth  against  the  enemy. 
The  earl  of  Leicester,  with  part  of  the  English,  did 
the  like,  and  the  other  troops,  seeing  these  advance 
without  the  signal,  followed  their  example.  The 
first  shock  was  tremendous.  At  no  time  could  the 
Turks  sustain  the  charge  of  the  red-cross  knights, 
which  the  strength  of  their  horses,  and  the  weight 
and  length  of  their  spears,  rendered  peculiarly  for- 
midable. The  Saracens  usually  endeavoured,  by 
manoeuvring,  to  escape  this  encounter;  but  now, 
blocked  up  by  multitudes  of  their  own  friends  be- 
hind, they  had  no  means  of  evading  it.  Hundreds 
of  saddles  were  emptied  in  a  moment,  and  the  foot 
soldiers  coming  rapidly  up,  hewed  down,  or  trans- 
fixed with  their  pikes,  all  who  were  borne  to  the 
ground.  Richard,  mounted  on  his  favourite  Cyprus 
charger,  gave  entire  vent  to  his  ardour,  and,  exert- 
ing the  whole  of  his  gigantic  strength,  did  that  day 
such  deeds  of  arms  as  excited  the  wonder  and  admi- 
ration of  those  who  knew  him  best,  and  inspired  the 
Turks  with  the  belief  that  he  was  rather  an  aveng- 
ing demon,  than  a  mere  mortal  man.  Wherever 
he  came,  a  wide  lane  was  opened,  through  which 


RICHARD   THE  FIRST.  205 

he  rode,  striking  right  and  left,  and  whosoever  fell 
beneath  one  of  these  terrible  blows,  never  rose  again. 
Panic-struck,  and  astounded  by  the  sudden  move- 
ment of  the  crusaders,  the  Saracens  began  first  to 
waver,  and  then  to  fly.  Even  Saladin  turned  the 
rein,  and  then  the  rout  became  general ;  nor,  as 
was  usually  the  case  when  the  Turks  retreated,  did 
they  venture  to  turn  again,  but  fled  straight  onward 
to  the  hills,  pursued  by  their  victorious  antagonists. 
Such  was  the  fortune  of  battle  in  the  centre,  which 
decided  the  fate  of  the  day.  On  the  left,  also, 
the  Christians  were  victorious,  though  some  of  the 
Burgundian  troops  gave  way ;  but  the  Germans 
maintained  the  old  reputation  of  their  country,  and 
routed  their  assailants.  The  first  charge  of  the  right 
wing  was  likewise  .effective,  but  the  advantage  so 
gained  was  burdened  with  the  loss  of  that  valiant 
soldier  James  D'Avesnes,  who  penetrated  too  far 
into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  and  was  separated 
from  his  followers.  Alone,  against  hundreds,  he 
fought  with  his  usual  gallantry  and  success,  until 
he  received  a  cruel  wound  on  the  thigh.  Notwith- 
standing the  great  loss  of  blood,  he  fought  on  most 
valorously,  and  almost  succeeded  in  disengaging 
himself  from  the  press,  when  another  blow  brought 
him  to  the  ground.  It  so  happened  that  the  tide  of 
battle  had  carried  him  near  the  spot  where  Richard 
was  fighting,  but  all  his  endeavours  to  reach  him 
were  in  vain.  While  sinking  from  his  horse,  he 
turned  towards  his  royal  master  and  cried,  "  Brave 
king,  avenge  my  death !"  and  having  said  this  he 
dropped  from  the  saddle.  Richard  heard  the  cry 
and  recognised  the  voice  ;  a  few  blows  cleared  him 


206  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

of  his  immediate  assailants,  but  he  arrived  too  late 
to  save  his  friend,  though  not  to  avenge  his  fall. 
The  body  of  James  D'Avesnes  was  found  after  the 
battle,  quite  buried  beneath  a  heap  of  slain. 

The  charges  of  the  Crusaders,  and  the  flight  of  the 
Turks,  had  changed  the  place  of  action,  which  now 
was  carried  towards  the  hills.  The  royal  standard 
of  England  alone  stood  in  its  former  place  in  the 
middle  of  the  plain,  and  was  guarded  by  a  small 
but  select  body  of  English  and  Norman  knights. 
A  squadron  of  Turkish  cavalry,  who  had  not  been 
engaged  in  the  previous  contest,  under  the  command 
of  the  emir  Tokeddin,  a  near  relation  of  Saladin, 
espied  the  standard  thus  comparatively  defenceless, 
and  made  a  sudden  charge  upon  it ;  but,  forgetting 
their  usual  cautious  mode  of  warfare,  they  closed  with 
the  knights,  and  an  obstinate  combat  with  the 
sword  and  mace  began.  The  English  fought 
bravely,  but  they  were  fearfully  over-matched  in 
numbers,  and  the  foremost  of  the  Turks  had  almost 
reached  the  standard,  when  William  de  Barres,  re- 
turning from  the  pursuit,  rushed  with  his  men  to 
the  rescue,  and  drove  them  back.  The  arrival  of 
fresh  succours  soon  forced  the  Turks  to  betake 
themselves  to  the  hills  for  safety.  The  battle  now 
seemed  over,  the  recall  was  sounded,  and  the  Chris- 
tian warriors  returned  from  the  pursuit.  As  it  was 
now  near  night-fall,  they  pitched  their  camp  with- 
out the  walls  of  Assur,  in  the  hope  of  enjoying  a 
quiet  night's  repose,  after  a  day  of  so  much  anxiety 
and  toil.  Their  work,  however,  was  not  yet  ended, 
for  whilst  they  were  employed  in  fixing  the  tents, 
a  fresh  battalion  of  Saracens  issued  from  the  town, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  207 

and  fell  upon  them  unawares.  Richard,  hearing  the 
tumult,  leaped  upon  his  horse,  and  attended  only  by 
some  fifteen  knights,  spurred  towards  the  place,  and 
shouting  the  war-cry,  "  God  for  us  and  the  Holy 
Sepulchre!"  burst  into  the  middle  of  the  combat- 
ants. Every  one  who  heard  his  voice  rushed  to 
arms,  and  after  a  short  but  sanguinary  conflict  the 
assailants  were  beaten  off  and  slaughtered  to  the 
very  gates  of  Assur. 

So  ended  this  memorable  battle,  the  most  import- 
ant if  not  the  most  brilliant  of  Richard's  achieve- 
ments in  Palestine.  It  was  fought  on  the  seventh 
day  of  September  1191,  and  lasted  from  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  nightfall.  The  number  of  the 
Saracens  who  were  slain  is  differently  estimated  by 
the  historians,  some  reckoning  it  as  high  as  forty 
and  others  as  low  as  seven  thousand.  As,  however, 
we  are  informed  that  the  bodies  of  thirty-two  emirs 
were  found  on  the  field  of  battle,  we  may  conclude 
that  their  loss  was  immense ;  indeed,  Richard  in 
writing  to  the  abbot  of  Clairval  says,  that  Saladin 
during  fifty  years  of  warfare  had  never  suffered  so 
signal  a  defeat ;  and  the  Arabian  historian  Bohadin, 
who  was  in  attendance  upon  the  sultan,  confesses 
that  the  result  of  the  day  was  such  as  to  strike  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  all,  and  to  make  them  tremble  for 
the  safety  of  Jerusalem.  Very  few  of  the  Christians 
were  slain,  and  of  these  James  D'Avesnes  was  the 
only  leader  of  distinction.  It  was  in  this  battle 
that  the  prowess  of  Richard  won  for  him  the  famous 
appellation  of  the  Melech-Ric,  a  name  by  which  to 
this  day  he  is  as  well  known  in  the  East,  as  by  that 
of  Cceur-de-Lion  in  Europe.  Some  notion  of  the 


208  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

terror  which  his  person  inspired  may  be  gathered 
from  the  recorded  fact,  that  the  Saracen  mothers 
were  wont  to  awe  their  children  into  silence  by  the 
mention  of  his  name ;  and  that  it  was  common  for 
the  Turkish  cavaliers  to  chide  an  unruly  horse,  by 
asking  if  he  saw  king  Richard  in  the  way.  * 

On  the  third  day  after  the  battle,  the  army  resumed 
its  march  towards  Joppa,  without  encountering  any 
impediment  save  at  the  fords  of  a  river  near  Assur, 
where  a  body  of  Turks  were  posted.  These,  however, 
merely  waited  until  the  vanguard  prepared  to  cross, 
and  then,  having  discharged  their  arrows,  rode  off 
precipitately.  At  Joppa  the  Christians  found  great 
plenty  of  fruits  and  provisions.  Their  fleet  also  had 
arrived  in  the  port,  and  supplied  them  with  every 
necessary.  In  the  meantime,  the  forces  of  the  Sa- 
racens being  collected,  a  great  council  of  their  chiefs 
was  summoned  by  the  sultan,  to  consider  what  plan 
of  operations  it  were  best  for  them  to  adopt.  All 
agreed  that  the  state  of  affairs  was  more  alarming 
than  they  had  anticipated,  and  that  it  was  usejess 
to  attempt  a  series  of  attacks,  which  sooner  or  later 
must  end  in  inevitable  defeat.  It  was  therefore  pro- 
posed and  carried,  that  part  of  the  army  should 
remain  under  the  charge  of  Malek-al-Adel,  brother 
of  the  sultan,  to  observe  the  proceedings  of  the 

*  The  following  is  the  testimony  of  Bernard  le  Tresorier  : — "  Le 
Roi  Richart  fu  mult  doute  par  toute  paieuime,  et  avenoit  aucune 
fois,  si  com  Ten  dist,  que  quant  les  enfans  as  Sarrazins  ploroient,  il 
disoient — Tes-toi,  por  le  roi  d'Engleterre  !  Et  quant  un  Sarrazin 
chevauchoit  cheval  restif,  et  il  veoit  bien  son  ombre,  il  reculoit 
ariere,  et  quant  li  Samizin  le  hurtoit  des  esperons,  si  disoit  'Guides 
tu  que  le  roi  Richart  soit  mucie  en  cest  buisson, '  on  en  ce  dont 
le  cheval  avoit  paor." — Histoire  de  la  Conqu6te  de  la  Terrc 
Salute. 


RICHARD   THE   FIKST.  209 

Christians  ;  and  that  Saladin  and  the  rest  should 
advance  to  the  strong  city  of  Ascalon,  and  either 
place  a  garrison  there  or  demolish  the  fortifications, 
so  as  to  render  it  of  little  value  to  the  Christians, 
should  they  afterwards  take  possession.  Accordingly 
Saladin,  with  his  eldest  son,  Malek-al-Aphdal,  and 
the  historian  Bohadin,  set  out  for  Ascalon,  and  on 
his  arrival  there,  held  a  long  consultation  as  to  the 
destruction  of  the  fortifications.  Saladin  was  ex- 
ceedingly unwilling  to  take  this  desperate  step,  for 
Ascalon  was  the  principal  seaport  that  remained  in 
his  possession  since  Acre  was  lost ;  but  it  was  plain, 
that  the  miserable  fate  which  befel  the  garrison  of 
that  latter  town  had  so  disheartened  his  troops,  that 
they  dared  not  stand  the  consequences  of  another 
siege,  and  Ascalon  was  therefore  condemned.  "  By 
Allah  !  "  said  Saladin,  turning  to  Bohadin,  "  I  would 
rather  see  all  my  sons  dead  before  me  than  pull 
down  one  stone  of  that  noble  city :  but  since  it  is 
His  will  and  necessary  for  the  safety  of  the  Moslem, 
let  it  be  done."  So  the  work  of  destruction  pro- 
ceeded*. 

Some  of  the  townspeople  escaping  from  Ascalon, 
fled  to  Joppa,  and  informed  Richard  of  the  sultan's 
design.  Such  an  act  of  desperation  on  the  part  of 
Saladin,  who,  notwithstanding  his  late  defeat,  was 
still  immensely  powerful,  seemed  hardly  credible; 
but  Geoffry  of  Lusignan  was  despatched  in  a  swift- 
sailing  galley  to  lie  off  the  town,  and  ascertain  the 
truth  of  the  report.  That  Baron,  on  his  return, 
corroborated  the  statement  of  the  fugitives,  where- 
upon a  council  of  the  princes  was  held  to  consider 

*  Bohadin. 


210  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

what  steps  should  be  taken  in  consequence.  Richard 
strongly  urged  the  necessity  of  an  instant  advance 
upon  Ascalon,  asserted  that  the  Saracens  who  were 
engaged  in  demolishing  the  fortifications  would  not 
venture  to  give  battle  to  the  crusaders,  and  enlarged 
upon  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  the  posses- 
sion of  so  important  a  town.  The  duke  of  Burgundy 
and  others  were  of  a  contrary  opinion  ;  and  argued 
that  Ascalon  was  so  far  removed  from  the  scene  of 
action  as  to  be  of  minor  importance.  Joppa,  they 
said,  being  much  nearer  Jerusalem,  was  the  fittest 
point  from  which  they  could  direct .  their  march 
towards  the  holy  city  ;  and  as  its  fortifications  also 
had  been  destroyed,  they  proposed  to  remain  there 
for  a  season,  and  rebuild  the  walls.  This  proposition 
was  carried  by  acclamation,  although  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  suggestion  of  Richard  was  the  wisest 
and  most  politic,  since,  had  Ascalon  been  taken  and 
rendered  tenable  by  the  Christians,  we  have  the 
authority  of  the  Turkish  historians  for  saying  that 
Saladin  would  instantly  have  abandoned  great  part 
of  his  conquests,  and  would  have  retired  to  the  in- 
terior, perhaps  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  Jerusalem 
itself*.  Whatever  were  the  arguments  of  Burgundy, 
the  real  cause  of  the  disinclination  of  the  Christians 
to  proceed  to  Ascalon  was  not  the  proximity  of 
Joppa  to  the  holy  city,  but  the  attractions  and 
pleasures  which  were  to  be  found  in  that  town. 
Some  of  the  crusaders  seemed  to  consider  the  war  as 
ended  for  the  time,  and,  taking  advantage  of  the  ship- 
ping, returned  to  their  old  haunt  of  Acre.  Others 
remained,  but  instead  of  applying  themselves  dili- 
*  Bohadm. — Abulfeda. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  211 

gently  to  the  work,  plunged  into  the  midst  of 
dissipation,  and  resumed  their  former  excesses.  All 
this  was  very  galling  to  Richard,  who  did  all  in  his 
power  to  recall  the  stragglers  to  their  duty,  and  for 
that  purpose  even  proceeded  in  person  to  Acre. 
Here,  by  dint  of  great  perseverance,  he  collected 
most  of  the  defaulters  ;  and  embarking  along  with 
some  fresh  troops,  returned  to  Joppa  in  company 
with  his  queen  and  sister. 

While  the  army  tarried  at  Joppa,  it  was  the 
almost  daily  custom  of  the  king  to  ride  out  on 
hunting  expeditions,  partly  from  the  love  of  pastime, 
and  partly  because  in  these  excursions  he  frequently 
fell  in  with  the  Turks  who  loitered  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  thus  had  an  opportunity  of  indulging  his 
passion  for  adventure.  One  day,  while  thus  employed 
in  hawking,  he  rode  out  further  than  usual,  with  a 
very  small  train  of  knights  in  his  company,  and 
being  overcome  by  the  heat  of  the  day,  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  lay  down  upon  the  grass,  and  soon 
fell  fast  asleep.  A  body  of  Saracens  from  the  army 
of  Malek-al-Adel,  who,  unobserved  by  him,  had 
been  watching  his  motions  from  a  neighbouring 
height,  resolved  to  profit  by  the  opportunity,  and,  if 
possible,  to  take  prisoner  the  great  enemy  and  scourge 
of  their  race.  With  this  intention  they  mounted 
their  horses,  and  by  taking  advantage  of  the  ine- 
qualities of  the  ground  and  the  intervening  thickets, 
approached  so  near,  that  the  Christians  were  scarcely 
awake  and  aware  of  their  danger,  before  their  ene- 
mies were  upon  them.  The  foot  of  Richard  was  just 
in  the  stirrup  when  the  Saracens  came  up  ;  never- 
theless he  swung  himself  into  the  saddle,  and 
p  2 


212  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

drawing  his  sword,  with  a  few  strokes  brought  the 
foremost  of  his  assailants  to  the  ground.  The  others 
turned  the  rein,  and  commenced  a  precipitate  flight. 
Richard,  who  desired  no  better  sport,  spurred  after 
them  with  his  followers ;  but  they  had  not  ridden  far 
before  a  number  of  Saracens  started  up  from  the 
bushes,  wherein  they  had  lain  concealed,  and  sur- 
rounding the  party,  attempted  to  drag  the  knights 
from  their  horses.  Fortunately  for  Richard,  these 
Saracens,  though  convinced  that  the  king  was  of  the 
party,  did  not  recognize  his  person  ;  and  therefore, 
instead  of  concentrating  their  attack  upon  him,  they 
clustered  around  each  of  the  knights,  trusting  that 
they  might  unhorse  the  whole,  and  thus  be  secure  of 
their  royal  prize.  This  was  no  easy  matter,  for  the 
English  chivalry  were  prepared  to  defend  themselves 
against  any  odds,  and,  though  fearfully  overmatched 
in  numbers,  made  a  most  desperate  and  stubborn 
resistance.  Notwithstanding  their  gallantry,  they 
must  have  been  overcome,  and  Richard  would,  in  all 
probability,  have  been  led  a  prisoner  to  Saladin,  had 
not  William  de  Pratelles,  a  Provencal  knight, 
divined  their  object,  and  with  a  self-devotion  rarely 
if  ever  equalled,  exclaimed  in  the  Saracen  language, 
"  Back,  ye  infidel  dogs  !  I  am  the  Melech  Ric." 
Instantly  the  whole  body  of  Turks  crowded  round 
him,  and  dragged  him  from  his  saddle,  and,  without 
paying  the  least  attention  to  the  others,  galloped 
off  in  triumph,  carrying  their  captive  along  with 
them.  Richard  would  willingly  have  attempted  his 
deliverance,  but  four  of  his  bravest  knights  were 
slain,  and  others  wounded,  so  that  a  rescue  was  im- 
possible, and  he  was  perforce  compelled  to  return 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  213 

to  Joppa.  The  joy  of  the  Christians  at  this  narrow 
escape  of  their  leader  and  champion  was  unbounded  ; 
but  although  some  of  his  familiars  took  so  much  upon 
them  as  to  remonstrate  against  the  impropriety  of 
this  wanton  exposure  of  his  person,  whereby  the 
success  of  the  common  cause  was  endangered,  Ri- 
chard laughed  at  their  entreaties,  and  often  courted 
a  similar  danger,  but  happily  without  a  similar  result. 
It  is  proper,  however,  to  state  that  one  of  his  last 
actions  before  leaving  the  Holy  Land  was  to  procure 
the  freedom  of  his  brave  deliverer,  William  de 
Pratelles. 

Saladin,  having  finished  the  dismantlement  of 
Ascalon,  fixed  his  head-quarters  at  Ramula,  thus 
placing  himself  in  the  way  of  the  further  progress  of 
the  crusaders  towards  Jerusalem.  Richard,  with  the 
view  of  rousing  the  dormant  energies  of  his  followers, 
drew  them  out  from  Joppa,  and  encamped  between 
the  castles  of  Planes  and  Maey,  two  places  of 
strength  which  had  been  partially  destroyed  by  the 
Saracens,  and  which  he  now  proposed  to  re-fortify. 
Accordingly,  the  greater  part  of  his  army  were  em- 
ployed in  these  works,  whilst  the  rest  kept  guard  or 
rode  into  the  country  on  foraging  excursions,  during 
which  they  freqxiently  encountered  armed  bands  of 
the  enemy.  On  one  occasion,  a  small  troop  of  Tem- 
plars were  employed  on  this  service,  at  no  great 
distance  from  Maey,  where  Richard  was  ;  and  whilst 
cutting  grass,  and  collecting  it  into  bundles,  were 
attacked  and  surrounded  by  nearly  four  thousand  of 
the  Turkish  cavalry,  who  came  upon  them  before 
they  could  mount  their  horses.  The  knights,  though 
surprised,  were  not  dismayed.  They  set  back  to 


214  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

back,  and  protected  each  other  from  the  vehement 
assault  of  the  Saracens,  as  well  as  they  could.  At 
the  first  onset,  three  of  the  Templars  were  slain,  and 
as  they  were  not  provided  with  spears,  the  others 
were  forced  to  maintain  a  close  combat,  at  fearful 
disadvantage,  each  man  having  several  adversaries 
to  contend  with,  and  many  more  being  ready  to 
supply  their  place,  even  should  they  dispose  of  the 
first  assailants.  Notwithstanding  all  their  efforts, 
the  Templars  were  nearly  overpowered,  for  the  Turks 
had  succeeded  in  beating  down  their  swords  and  had 
laid  hands  upon  them,  at  the  moment  when  Andrew 
de  Savigny,  with  fifteen  other  knights,  rode  up  to 
the  rescue,  and  repelled  the  foremost  of  the  enemy. 
But  this  small  reinforcement  was  presently  sur- 
rounded also,  and,  had  not  speedy  succour  arrived, 
must  have  been  slain  or  taken  prisoners.  The  noise 
of  the  combat  soon  reached  the  ears  of  Richard,  who, 
ascending  the  tower  of  Maey,  saw  by  the  cloud  of 
dust  upon  the  plain,  and  the  active  movements  of 
the  Turkish  horse,  that  some  part  of  his  forces  were 
in  jeopardy.  "  By  Saint  George  !  "  said  the  king, 
"  yonder  is  a  tough  battle  ;  who  rode  out  this  morn- 
ing to  protect  the  foragers  ?  "  An  attendant  replied 
that  they  were  Templars,  which  order  was  then  par- 
ticularly obnoxious  to  Richard,  on  account  of  their 
adherence  to  Conrad,  and  the  haughtiness  of  their 
manner  toward  the  English  knights,  whom  they 
affected  to  consider  as  inferior  to  themselves.  "  Tem- 
plars ! "  repeated  Richard,  "  I  would  to  God  they 
were  aught  else  ;  but,  Templars  or  no,  it  shall  never 
be  said  that  I  deserted  a  brave  knight  in  the  hour  of 
need."  So  saying,  he  hastened  to  put  on  his  armour, 


KICHAKD    THE   FIRST.  215 

and  ordered  the  earl  of  Leicester  and  the  count  of 
Saint  Paul  to  take  such  men  as  were  ready,  and  ride 
to  the  relief  of  the  encompassed  band.  Very  few, 
however,  were  prepared  to  follow  these  noblemen, 
and  they  failed  to  beat  off  the  Turks,  although  the 
earl  of  Leicester,  who  was  the  right  hand  of  Cceur- 
de-Lion,  and  as  fearless  as  his  master,  performed 
prodigies  of  valour.  The  combat  was  still  raging, 
when  Richard  came  up  and  threw  himself  into  the 
thickest  of  the  press,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  his 
followers,  who  besought  him  not  to  peril  his  person 
in  so  unequal  a  contest.  The  result  was  the  discom- 
fiture of  the  enemy  and  the  death  of  their  leader,  an 
emir  of  distinction,  who  perished  by  the  sword  of 
Coeur-de-Lion. 

Such  scenes  were  of  common  occurrence,  and 
afforded  the  knights  of  the  crusading  army  ample 
opportunity  of  gaining  that  reputation  for  individual 
prowess  which  was  so  much  prized  by  the  adven- 
turous chivalry  of  the  age.  The  names  of  the  earl 
of  Leicester,  Henry  de  Gray,  Peter  de  Pratelles, 
Robert  Nigel,  William  de  Barres,  Robert  de  New- 
burg,  and  the  brothers  de  Bruil,  are  mentioned  by 
different  historians  with  much  reverence  and  honour  ; 
but  the  palm  of  merit,  by  universal  consent,  is  given 
to  Richard,  whose  superiority  to  all  others,  both  as 
a  general  and  a  soldier,  is  at  all  hands  admitted.  The 
conduct  of  the  Templars  and  Hospitallers  also  was 
worthy  of  their  old  renown ;  but  little  mention  is 
made  of  the  duke  Leopold  of  Austria,  and  less  of 
the  duke  of  Burgundy,  the  leader  of  the  French. 

Notwithstanding  all  these   conflicts  and  aggres- 
sions, the  war  had  by  this  time  assumed  a  milder 


216  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OP 

and  more  humane  character.  At  its  commencement 
no  quarter  was  given  by  either  party.  The  tragedy 
of  the  Christian  captives  and  of  the  garrison  of  Acre 
engendered  feelings  of  the  bitterest  rancour  between 
the  contending  armies.  All  the  prisoners  taken  by 
the  Turks  were  beheaded — as  for  the  crusaders,  their 
general  rule  was  to  make  no  prisoners,  but  indiscri- 
minately to  slay  all  who  fell  in  their  way.  This 
savage  and  brutal  system  was  at  length  relaxed, 
either  from  policy  or  from  shame.  During  the  siege 
of  Acre,  when  the  kings  of  England  and  France 
were  attacked  with  the  epidemic  fever,  Saladin,  with 
great  courtesy,  sent  them  presents  of  the  most  deli- 
cious fruits  of  Damascus,  and  other  Astatic  luxuries; 
and  this  noble  spirit  on  the  part  of  his  rival,  though 
apparently  disregarded  at  the.  time,  was  not  forgotten 
by  Richard,  who,  moreover,  conceived  a  great  re- 
spect for  Saladin  on  account  of  his  personal  valour, 
which  he  had  more  than  once  witnessed  on  the  field 
of  battle.  Insensibly,  therefore,  the  English  began 
to  treat  the  Saracens  with  the  same  consideration 
that  they  would  have  extended  to  enemies  professing 
the  Christian  faith,  and  this  forbearance  was  reci- 
procated. The  military  friars,  alone,  retained  their 
savage  customs,  and  between  them  and  the  Turks 
no  quarter  was  asked  or  given. 

During  the  former  crusades  a  treaty  with  the 
infidel  was  never  either  urged  or  contemplated ;  but 
the  state  of  parties  now  rendered  such  a  step  not 
only  highly  probable  but  extremely  judicious.  Con- 
rad, after  the  departure  of  his  patron  Philip,  remained 
at  Tyre,  taking  no  active  share  in  the  enterprises  of 
the  army,  but  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  advance 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  217 

his  own  interest  and  secure  the  recognition  of  his 
claims.  All  application  to  Richard  for  this  purpose 
would,  as  he  was  well  aware,  prove  ineffectual,  but 
the  present  position  of  Saladin  warranted  him  in  the 
belief  that  by  making  interest  in  that  quarter,  he 
might  secure  such  terms  as  would  leave  him,  when 
the  English  departed,  in  undisturbed  enjoyment  of 
the  kingdom.  He  therefore,  sent  one  of  his  adhe- 
rents to  the  sultan,  offering,  if  the  latter  should 
guarantee  him  the  possession  of  Tyre,  along  with 
Sidon  and  Berytus,  to  break  altogether  with  the 
crusaders,  and  if  necessary  to  join  his  forces  with 
those  of  the  Saracen,  to  drive  the  intruders  from  the 
Holy  Land  and  achieve  the  recapture  of  Acre.  This 
offer  was  listened  to  by  Saladin  with  considerable 
interest,  and  would  no  doubt  have  been  at  last 
accepted,  had  not  Richard  also  proposed  terms  for  a 
general  peace.  "  The  foundation  of  these  was  the 
restitution  of  Jerusalem,  and  all  the  territory  between 
Jordan  and  the  sea,  together  with  the  True  Cross  ; 
and  Saladin  considered  this  manifestation  of  Rich- 
ard's good- will  to  be  of  so  much  importance,  that  he 
despatched  his  brother  Malek-al-Adel,  or  Saphadin 
as  he  was  otherwise  called,  to  treat  in  person  with 
the  English  king.  A  lengthened  negotiation  ensued, 
but  neither  party  would  agree  to  the  terms.  The 
Turk  asserted  that  Jerusalem  was  as  dear  to  the 
Moslem  as  to  the  Christian,  being  the  favoured  city 
of  God,  and  that  as  for  the  Holy  Cross,  he  held  it  a 
crime  to  countenance  a  respect  which  savoured  more 
of  idolatry  than  of  pure  and  lofty  religion.  Never- 
theless, this  meeting  was  not  without  its  effect 
in  further  removing  the  mutual  prejudices  of  tho 


218  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

princes.  It  is  even  said  that  Richard  went  so  far 
as  to  bestow  the  honour  of  knighthood  upon  a  son  of 
Saphadin, — to  the  great  disgust  of  the  Templars,  who 
regarded  the  proceeding  as  a  flagrant  violation  of  the 
first  principles  of  chivalry ;  and  the  story,  however 
strange  it  may  appear,  is  entitled  to  some  credit,  as 
we  are  informed  that  Saladin  in  his  earlier  years 
solicited  and  obtained  the  same  distinction  from  the 
sword  of  Humphrey  de  Thoron,  a  powerful  baron 
of  Jerusalem. 

The  treaty  between  Saladin  and  Richard  was 
thus  broken  off,  nor  does  it  appear  that  the  pro- 
posals of  Conrad  were  formally  accepted  by  the 
sultan,  although  the  conduct  of  that  nobleman  was 
such  as  to  make  many  believe  that  a  very  good 
understanding  prevailed  between  him  and  the  com- 
mon enemy.  Shortly  afterwards  a  much  more 
objectionable  method  of  ending  the  war  seems  to 
have  occurred  to  Richard  :  this  was  the  marriage  of 

*  O 

his  sister  Joan,  widow  of  William  of  Sicily,  with  the 
Saracen  prince  Malek-al-Adel,  and  the  union  of  the 
Syrian  territories  in  their  persons  :  a  proposition  so 
utterly  wild  and  extravagant,  so  inconsistent  with 
the  high  profession  of  a  crusader,  and  so  unbecoming 
the  character  of  a  Christian  prince,  that  were  we 
not  assured  of  the  fact  by  the  concurring  testimony 
of  the  Asiatic  and  European  historians,  we  would 
be  inclined  to  dismiss  it  as  the  foul  invention  of  an 
enemy.  It  is  equally  strange  that  Saladin  was  no- 
wise indisposed  to  concur  in  this  proposal,  and  that 
his  brother  agreed  to  it  at  once  ;  but  no  sooner  wag 
it  rumoured  abroad  that  such  an  extraordinary  alli- 
ance was  meditated,  than  the  chiefs  of  both  armies 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  219 

expressed  the  strongest  dissatisfaction,  and  Joan 
indignantly  declared  that  she  would  rather  die  than 
temporise  with  her  faith,  or  suffer  the  pollution  of 
the  embraces  of  a  Saracen  spouse.  This  idea,  there- 
fore, was  speedily  abandoned,  and  hostilities  recom- 
menced anew. 

The  season  was  now  far  advanced,  and  the  rains 
set  in,  so  that  it  became  necessary  to  place  the  army 
in  winter-quarters.  The  crusaders  had  by  this  time 
marched  into  Ramula,  a  town  deserted  and  dilapi- 
dated by  the  sultan,  and  even  penetrated  as  far  as 
Bethanopolis,  a  place  of  strength  situated  about 
seven  leagues  to  the  westward  of  Jerusalem.  Rich- 
ard would  fain  have  pushed  forward  and  invested 
the  Holy  City,  but  the  Templars  and  Hospitallers 
remonstrated  against  such  a  step,  which  would  leave 
the  army  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather 
during  the  winter  months,  without  any  corresponding 
advantage,  since  Jerusalem  was  so  strongly  fortified 
and  garrisoned  that  the  siege  must  have  been  a  work 
of  time.  Yielding  to  these  representations  Richard 
led  back  his  army,  and  took  up  his  winter-quarters 
in  Joppa. 

The  difficulty  of  maintaining  anything  like  una- 
nimity among  a  body  of  men  so  divided  by  country 
and  interest  as  the  crusaders,  now  became  still  more 
apparent  than  before.  Whilst  the  enemy  were  hover- 
ing around  them,  the  common  danger  caused  the 
Christians  for  a  time  to  forget  their  minor  differences, 
but  as  soon  as  this  stimulus  was  withdrawn,  they 
lapsed  into  their  former  state  of  insubordination  and 
jealousy.  Some  of  their  leaders,  such  as  the  dukes 
of  Burgundy  and  Austria,  began  to  weary  of  the 


220  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OF 

supremacy  of  Richard,  and  to  cool  in  their  enthu- 
siasm for  the  great  object  of  the  enterprise.  There- 
fore, when  a  general  council  was  summoned  to 
consider  the  operations  of  the  next  campaign,  opinions 
were  very  much  divided.  The  proposal  of  Richard 
for  an  instant  advance  upon  Jerusalem  was  negatived ; 
and  with  strange  inconsistency,  the  same  men  who 
formerly  argued  against  the  expedition  to  Ascalon, 
at  the  time  when  their  appearance  might  have  pre- 
vented the  destruction  of  the  fortifications,  now 
brought  forward  that  measure,  although  the  walls 
were  razed  to  their  foundations.  This  motion, 
however,  was  finally  carried,  and  the  army  were 
ordered  to  prepare  for  their  march.  Great  dissatis- 
faction was  expressed  by  the  common  soldiers,  when 
they  learned  that  the  advance  upon  Jerusalem  was 
postponed  for  what  they  believed  to  be  an  interested 
and  nugatory  object.  They  were  besides  still  suffer- 
ing from  the  effects  of  a  protracted  winter,  and  had 
no  inclination  to  recommence  immediately  that  species 
of  toil  which  they  had  found  so  irksome  while  en- 
gaged in  repairing  the  walls  of  Joppa.  The  French, 
in  particular,  not  only  testified  their  unwillingness 
to  proceed  by  loud  murmuring,  but  actually  deserted 
in  great  numbers.  Some  of  them  returned  to  Acre, 
and  some  accepted  the  invitation  of  Conrad,  and 
-journeyed  as  far  as  Tyre,  where  they  were  received 
with  open  arms.  In  addition  to  this  defection, 
sickness  was  very  prevalent  in  the  camp,  and  provi- 
sions neither  cheap  nor  plenty. 

Richard  was  sensibly  affected  by  this  alarming 
posture  of  affairs,  but  he  was  too  intrepid  and  con- 
fident to  relax  his  efforts  on  account  of  the  pusillani- 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  221 

mity  of  others.  With  great  pains,  therefore,  and 
difficulty,  in  the  coldest  and  most  stormy  weather, 
he  led  the  remnants  of  his  army  to  Ascalon,  where 
he  arrived  about  the  commencement  of  January 
1 192,  and  forthwith  proceeded  to  repair  and  rebuild 
the  fortifications,  which  were  at  least  as  strong  as 
those  of  Acre.  Saladin,  understanding  that  his 
enemy  was  so  occupied,  gave  permission  to  his  sol- 
diers, except  those  in  garrison,  to  return  to  their 
families,  enjoining  them,  however,  to  reassemble  in 
the  month  of  May ;  and  this  liberty  was  joyfujly 
embraced  by  the  Saracens,  who,  for  a  period  of 
nearly  four  years,  had  served  their  sultan  in  the  field 
without  intermission,  and  with  far  more  constancy 
and  good-will  than  their  Christian  opponents  had 
shown.  A  tacit  truce  was  thus  in  some  measure 
concluded  between  the  armies,  and  it  was  expected 
that  during  the  ensuing  summer,  the  great  attempt 
upon  Jerusalem  would  be  made,  and  the  crusaders 
either  rewarded  for  their  toils  by  the  possession  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre,  or  forced  to  retrace  their  steps 
to  Europe  with  disappointment  and  defeat. 

Meanwhile,  great  progress  was  made  in  the  works 
at  Ascalon.  Nobles,  knights,  and  priests  laboured 
at  the  fortifications  like  common  soldiers ;  nor  could 
they  well  do  otherwise,  since  Richard  in  his  own 
person  set  them  a  strenuous  example.  One  man 
alone,  Leopold  duke  of  Austria,  refused  to  lend  his 
aid,  asserting  that  he  was  neither  a  carpenter  nor  a 
mason ;  for  which  specimen  of  ill-timed  vanity  and 
conceit  he  was  so  shrewdly  reprimanded  by  Cceur- 
de-Lion,  that  he  was  weak  enough  to  retire  with 
the  whole  of  his  Germans,  and  lent  no  further  assist- 


222  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OF 

ance  during  the  crusade.  This  prince,  whose  valour 
during  the  first  year  of  the  siege  of  Acre  we  have 
already  mentioned,  had  always  regarded  Richard 
with  an  evil  eye,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  his  dislike 
was  repaid  with  interest  by  the  bold  and  overbearing 
king.  On  the  reduction  of  Acre  the  duke  had  caused 
the  banner  of  Austria  to  be  displayed  on  the  prin- 
cipal tower  ;  an  instance  of  presumption  which 
Richard,  without  any  remonstrance,  punished,  by 
causing  the  flag  to  be  hurled  into  the  ditch,  and  the 
ensign  of  England  to  be  displayed  in  its  stead.  This 
was  an  unpardonable  insult,  and  Leopold  studied  to 
avenge  it ;  unfortunately  he  found  an  opportunity, 
and  eagerly  availed  himself  of  it,  as  we  shall  learn 
in  the  sequel.  Very  shortly  after  this  a  dispute 
arose  between  the  king  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy, 
with  reference  to  a  loan  which  the  latter  requested 
For  the  payment  of  his  troops,  but  which  Richard, 
who  already  had  expended  large  sums  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  French,  thought  proper  to  refuse.  The 
result  was  the  defection  of  the  duke,  who  with  the 
greater  part  of  his  forces  marched  off  to  Acre. 

On  his  arrival  he  found  that  city  in  a  state  of 
great  disorder.  The  Pisans  and  Genoese  had  been 
quartered  there  for  the  winter ;  an  unfortunate 
arrangement,  as  these  of  all  the  crusading  troops 
bore  the  strongest  ill-will  to  each  other,  both  on 
account  of  their  native  politics,  and  the  adverse 
causes  which  they  had  espoused  in  Palestine.  The 
Pisans  were  the  close  allies  of  the  English,  and 
favoured  Guy  of  Lusignan.  The  Genoese  on  the 
contrary  adhered  to  the  French,  and  declared  them- 
selves partisans  of  Conrad.  Such  combustible  ma- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  223 

terials  could  not  long  be  together,  without  bursting 
into  a  flame  ;  accordingly  when  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy reached  Acre,  he  found  them  at  open  hostilities 
on  the  plain  without  the  city.  The  sight  of  the 
French  banner  was  greeted  by  the  Genoese  with 
loud  acclamations,  but  the  Pisans  nothing  dismayed, 
made  a  vigorous  attack  upon  their  opponents  in 
spite  of  the  reinforcement,  struck  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy from  his  horse,  and  retreating  into  the  city 
closed  the  gates  and  manned  the  walls  as  though 
they  had  expected  a  siege.  Nor  were  they  altogether 
wrong  in  their  expectation,  for  the  Genoese,  by 
advice  of  the  duke,  sent  an  express  to  Tyre,  and 
offered,  in  return  for  his  assistance,  to  place  the 
marquis  in  possession  of  Acre.  Conrad  desired  no 
better  terms,  and  assembling  his  forces  invested  the 
city,  which  the  Pisans  defended  with  great  gallantry, 
having  previously  sent  to  Richard  to  warn  him  of 
their  situation.  Coeur-de-Lion  did  not  lose  a  mo- 
ment, but  advanced  as  far  as  Cesarea,  when,  the 
rumour  of  his  approach  having  preceded  him, 
Conrad  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy  abandoned  their 
operations  and  set  sail  for  Tyre.  Richard  arrived 
at  Acre,  and  with  some  difficulty  succeeded  in  recon- 
ciling the  contending  parties. 

Returning  to  Ascalon  he  found  that  the  few  French 
who  still  remained  with  the  army  had  been  invited 
by  the  marquis  to  join  their  countrymen  at  Tyre, 
and  had  yielded  to  the  temptation.  They  now 
applied  for  leave  to  depart,  which  Richard  contemp- 
tuously granted,  and  further  assigned  them  a  body- 
guard, lest,  as  he  said,  "  such  summer  warriors 
might  take  harm  by  the  way."  As  for  himself  he 


224  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

continued  the  works  at  Ascalon,  assisted  by  his 
nephew  count  Henry  of  Champagne,  who  through 
good  and  evil  report  cleaved  steadfastly  to  his  side, 
although  he  thereby  incurred  the  displeasure  of  his 
other  uncle  the  king  of  France;  and,  before  long,  they 
had  the  satisfaction  of  beholding  their  task  completed, 
and  the  fortifications  of  the  city  thoroughly  restored. 
Richard  next  meditated  an  attack  upon  the  strong 
holds  of  Gaza  and  Daroun,  which  Saladin  perceiving, 
reassembled  his  army  and  put  himself  in  a  posture 
of  defence. 

Before  any  offensive  movement  was  made  by 
either  party,  the  prior  of  Hereford  arrived  from 
England  with  letters  from  the  chancellor,  William 
bishop  of  Ely,  to  the  king,  containing  a  most  alarm- 
ing account  of  the  aggressions  of  prince  John,  and 
the  rapid  strides  which  he  was  making  towards 
possession  of  the  English  crown.  The  instant  return 
of  Richard — so  wrote  the  chancellor — was  absolutely 
necessary,  if  he  wished  to  preserve  his  kingdom, 
and  even  his  utmost  haste  might  fail  to  anticipate 
the  dreaded  evil.  This  was  cruel  news  for  Richard, 
whose  confidence  in  his  brother  had  been  unbounded, 
and  very  perplexing,  at  the  moment  when  he  hoped 
by  a  vigorous  exertion  to  conclude  the  Avar,  and 
add  Jerusalem  to  his  other  conquests.  To  leave 
Palestine  at  this  critical  conjuncture  would  be  to 
sacrifice  for  ever  all  hopes  of  the  re-establishment 
of  the  Latin  kingdom  ;  for  the  animosity  of  those  in 
the  two  camps  of  Ascalon  and  Tyre  was  so  strong 
that  they  did  not  only  refuse  to  act  in  concert,  but 
in  all  probability,  as  soon  as  his  back  was  turned, 
would  come  to  an  open  and  violent  rupture,  thereby 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  225 

giving  an  advantage  to  Saladin  which  that  sagacious 
prince  was  but  too  ready  to  seize.  On  the  other 
hand  if  he  tarried  longer,  it  appeared  likely  that  on 
his  return  he  would  find  himself  dethroned,  his 
brother  in  possession  of  the  crown  and  backed  by 
France,  and  his  old  and  faithful  followers  stripped  of 
their  wealth  and  exiled.  There  was  only  one  man 
in  Palestine  capable  of  supplying  his  place,  and  that 
man  had  shown  himself  throughout  his  most  active 
and  uncompromising  enemy.  This  was  Conrad  of 
Tyre,  whose  valour  and  abilities  were  acknowledged 
and  appreciated  by  all  the  crusaders  except  the 
English,  who  partook  of  the  prejudices  of  their 
monarch,  but  he  alone  of  all  the  princes  seemed 
qualified  to  cope  with  Saladin.  As  for  Guy  of 
Lusignan,  even  his  most  intimate  friends  could  not 
deny  his  vast  inferiority  to  Conrad,  which  now 
became  every  day  more  perceptible,  and  cooled  in  a 
great  measure  the  devotion  of  Richard  to  his  cause. 
The  line  of  conduct  adopted  by  the  English  mon- 
arch under  these  trying  circumstances  reflects  great 
honour  upon  himself.  Dismissing  all  memory  of 
the  past,  he  called  a  general  assembly  of  the  crusa- 
ders, and  announced  to  them  his  intention  of  shortly 
.returning  homewards.  This  statement  was  heard 
by  all  with  tokens  of  the  deepest  distress  ;  the  old 
warriors  of  the  cross  crowded  round  him,  fell  at  his 
feet,  and  entreated  him  in  the  most  affecting  manner 
not  to  leave  them  until  the  Holy  Sepulchre  was 
recovered.  Richard  was  much  affected,  but,  mastering 
his  feelings,  declared  that  the  imperious  calls  of  duty 
and  not  his  own  inclination  forced  him  back  to 
Europe ;  and  added  that  before  he  departed  it  was 


226  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

his  earnest  wish  that  all  disputes  regarding  the 
succession  to  the  crown  of  Jerusalem  should  be 
ended,  and  the  crusaders  united  under  one  head, 
whom  they  might  all  serve  with  fidelity  and  regard 
with  honour  and  esteem.  So  momentous  a  decision, he 
said,  should  not  be  submitted  to  the  nobles  alone, — the 
meanest  as  well  as  the  highest  had  an  interest  in  the 
choice,  and  he,  as  the  leader  of  the  present  crusade, 
now  took  upon  himself  the  responsibility  of  allowing 
them  the  free  election  of  their  king,  and  pledged 
himself  to  support  and  maintain  the  man  whom  the 
people  favoured.  Two  candidates  were  before  them, 
Guy  of  Lusignan,  and  Conrad  of  Montserrat  and 
Tyre,  and  between  them  they  had  now  to  choose. 

No  sooner  was  this  speech  concluded,  than  the 
crusaders,  by  acclamation^  elected  Conrad  for  their 
king.  Richard,  who  had  anticipated  the  result, 
heard  their  determination  with  great  equanimity, 
and  instantly  despatched  count  Henry  of  Cham- 
pagne, with  several  other  nobles,  to  Tyre,  to  inform 
the  marquis  of  his  good  fortune,  and  to  request  a 
personal  interview  at  his  earliest  convenience,  when 
such  dispositions  might  be  made  as  would  ensure  the 
success  of  the  Christian  arms  in  Palestine.  It  is 
difficult  to  say  whether  Conrad  was  more  surprised 
or  pleased,  on  receiving  so  unexpected  a  message. 
He  expressed  to  the  ambassadors  his  determination 
to  prove  himself  worthy  of  the  dignity  he  had  re- 
ceived, and  his  gratitude  to  Richard  for  his  candid 
and  honourable  conduct.  The  enthusiasm  and  joy 
of  the  people  of  Tyre,  who  almost  adored  the 
marquis,  was  unbounded.  Already,  in  imagination, 
they  beheld  their  favourite  crowned  in  state  at  Jeru- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  227 

salem,  the  land  from  Antioch  to  the  Arabian  frontier 
cleared  of  the  Saracen  enemy,  and  the  Holy  Sepulchre 
regained.  But  an  end  was  speedily  put  to  their 
lofty  aspirations;  and  never  was  the  beautiful  senti- 
ment which  Schiller  has  put  in  the  mouth  of 
Wallenstein  more  thoroughly  exemplified. — 

*'  Frohlocke  nicht ! 

Denn  eifersiichtig  sind  des  Shicksals  Miichte. 
Voreilig  Jauchzen  greift  in  ilire  Rechte. 
Den  samen  legen  wir  in  ihre  Hande  ; 
Ob  Gliick,  ob  Ungluck  aufgeht,  lehrt  das  Eude." 

"  Rejoice  not  yet ! 

For  jealous  are  the  powers  of  destiny. 
Triumph,  too  hasty,  trenches  on  their  rights — 
We  leave  the  seed  with  them  ;  unknowing  still 
Until  the  harvest  proves  it  good  or  ill." 

The  mountainous  tract  of  country  lying  between 
Tripoli  and  Tortosa  was  at  that  time  inhabited  by 
an  extraordinary  race  of  people  called  the  Hausassiz, 
who  were  governed  by  a  sheik,  or  prince,  known  by 
the  name  of  the  Ancient,  or  the  Old  Man  of  the 
Mountain.  Their  origin  was  supposed  to  have  been 
Persian  ;  but  they  had  been  settled  upwards  of  five 
hundred  years  in  the  country,  during  all  which 
time  they  had  maintained  their  entire  independence 
against  king  and  sultan,  Christian  and  Infidel.  This 
freedom  they  did  not  owe  to  their  numerical  strength, 
for  the  tribe  was  never  estimated  at  a  larger  number 
than  sixty  thousand  souls,  but  to  the  situation  and 
character  of  the  region  they  had  selected  for  their 
abode,  which  was  an  extensive  plain  surrounded  on 
all  sides  by  the  steepest  mountains,  the  passes  of 
which  were  so  blocked  up  and  commanded  by  castles, 
that  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  a  stranger  or  enemy 
Q  2 


228  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

to  enter.      The  most  fantastic  rumours  regarding 
this  secluded  region  and  its  inhabitants  were  circu- 
lated through  Palestine  and  Europe.    Some  believed 
it  to  be  the  seat  of  the  earthly  paradise,  a  garden  still 
radiant  with  the  glories  derived  from  its  heavenly 
Creator  ;  others  talked  of  a  mysterious  edifice  within 
its  confines — a  paradise  within  a  paradise,  the  won- 
ders of  which  were  guarded  from  the  sight  of  the 
Hausassiz  themselves,  and  revealed  only  to   those 
who,  by  long  and  meritorious  service,  had  deserved 
the  favour  of  the  Ancient,  who  was  the  castellan  of 
this  wondrous  structure.     One  fact  is  certain.     This 
prince  was  so  implicitly  obeyed  by  his  subjects,  that 
they  hesitated  not  to  undertake  any  duty  he  might 
assign,  however  great  or  perilous,  and  did  not  con- 
sider their  own  lives  as  of  the  slightest  value  when  the 
sacrifice  could  further  the  object  he  sought  to  attain*. 
It  so   happened,  that   a  vessel  belonging  to   the 
Ancient  was  compelled  by  stress  of  weather  to  put 
into  the  harbour  of   Tyre,  and  was  instantly  seized 
and  confiscated  by  the  marquis,  as  though  it  had 
been  the  property  of  Saladin.     The  Hausassiz  had 
taken  no  part  in  the  war,  and  therefore  should  not 
have  been  considered  as  enemies.     Still,  they  pro- 
fessed the  Mahomedan  religion,  or   at   least   were 
infidels,  and  in  these  days  enemy  and  infidel  were 
nearly  synonymous  terms.     But  the  devotion  of  his 
subjects  to  the  Ancient  was  so  well  known,  that  few 
men  were  hardy  enough  to  provoke  a  feud  with  a 
prince  whose  emissaries  could  penetrate  everywhere, 
and  therefore    both    Christian   and    Saracen    had 
hitherto  allowed  the  mountaineers  to  pass  without 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  229 

let  or  hindrance.  Conrad  was  the  first  to  break 
this  neutrality,  and  received  with  scorn  and  deri- 
sion the  peremptory  order  from  the  Ancient  for  the 
restitution  of  his  ship  and  crew ;  but  dearly  did  he 
pay  for  his  temerity. 

Henry  of  Champagne,  having  concluded  his  em- 
bassy, left  Tyre,  and  had  proceeded  as  far  as  Acre, 
when  he  was  overtaken  by  the  startling  news  of 
the  assassination  of  the  marquis  Conrad,  which  took 
place  in  the  following  manner.  Conrad  had  dined 
with  the  bishop  of  Beauvais,  and  was  returning  on 
horseback  to  his  palace,  unarmed,  and  attended  only 
by  a  few  of  his  most  intimate  friends.  When  near 
the  door  of  his  own  house,  two  of  the  Hausassiz,  who 
by  some  means  or  other  had  baffled  the  vigilance  of 
the  guard  and  gained  admission  into  the  city,  glided 
from  behind  a  pillar,  and  throwing  themselves  upon 
the  unfortunate  nobleman,  buried  their  daggers  in 
his  breast.  One  of  the  murderers  was  instantly  cut 
down  ;  the  other,  profiting  by  the  confusion,  fled  to 
a  neighbouring  church,  but  without  the  thought  of 
escape,  for  when  the  body  of  Conrad  was  brought  in 
and  placed  before  the  altar,  to  the  astonishment  and 
horror  of  all,  the  concealed  assassin  leaped  forward, 
and  again,  as  if  uncertain  of  the  efficacy  of  his 
former  blow,  drove  the  weapon  hilt-deep  into  the 
bosom  of  his  victim.  The  murderer  was  instantly 
hurried  to  the  rack,  and  subjected  to  the  most  cruel 
tortures  in  order  to  force  confession  of  the  instigator 
of  the  deed,  but  neither  screw  nor  fire  could  extract 
one  word  from  the  lips  of  the  zealot ;  he  baffled  the 
ingenuity  of  his  tormentors,  and  died  without  a 
groan.  The  count  of  Champagne  instantly  hastened 
to  Tyre,  where  he  found  the  inhabitants  in  the  utmost 


230  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

disorder,  lamenting  the  death  of  their  favourite  chief- 
tain, and  expressing  their  feara  lest  this  unhappy 
event  should  again  throw  the  sovereign  power  into 
the  hands  of  the  incapable  Guy  of  Lusignan.  But 
other  claimants  appeared  in  the  persons  of  the 
French,  who,  to  the  number  of  ten  thousand,  were 
encamped  without  the  city,  and  now  sent  a  formal 
summons  to  the  widow  of  Conrad,  desiring  her  to 
deliver  it  up  to  them  for  behoof  of  their  master 
Philip.  Isabella,  who  was  a  woman  of  great  spirit, 
immediately  replied,  that  she  would  surrender  Tyre 
to  king  Richard,  if  he  should  come  in  person  to  ask 
it,  for  he  was  the  head  and  champion  of  the  crusade, 
but  to  none  other ;  neither  did  she  acknowledge  any 
title  in  the  person  of  Philip  to  the  possessions  of  her 
husband  to  or  her  own.  Incensed  at  this  reply,  the 
turbulent  French  soldiery  prepared  to  attack  the 
city,  and  would  certainly  have  done  so,  had  not  the 
arrival  of  the  count  of  Champagne  compelled  them 
to  pause.  This  young  nobleman  was  exceedingly 
popular  among  all  classes  of  men  in  Palestine,  being 
of  a  frank  and  open  manner,  a  generous  and  gentle 
disposition,  and  as  much  distinguished  by  his  bravery 
in  action,  as  by  personal  grace  and  accomplishments. 
Richard,  in  particular,  loved  him  like  a  brother, 
taking  the  warmest  interest  in  his  renown  and  ad- 
vancement ;  and  this  attachment  was  most  gratefully 
repaid  by  Henry,  to  whom  the  English  monarch 
was  in  all  things  a  pattern  and  an  oracle,  and  whose 
proudest  title  was  that  of  the  nephew  of  Coeur-de- 
Lion*.  The  citizens  of  Tyre  received  him  joyfully, 
and  proposed  that,  as  they  were  now  without  a  lord, 

*  Henry's  mother  was  the  daughter  of  queen  Eleanor  by  her 
first  marriage  with  Louis  of  France. 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  231 

he  should  immediately  assume  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment, and  put  an  end  to  all  dissentions  by  espousing 
the  widow  of  Conrad,  who  was  still  young,  and 
possessed  of  considerable  charms.  To  this  the  count 
replied,  that  he  would  be  proud  to  undertake  the 
charge,  and  would  do  his  utmost  to  supply  the  loss 
of  the  murdered  marquis;  but  he  could  not  take 
such  a  step  without  the  express  sanction  of  Richard, 
and  the  consent  of  the  other  crusaders.  This  was 
readily  obtained,  and  the  nuptials  were  speedily 
celebrated ;  for  the  exigencies  of  the  case  required 
that  the  usual  form  and  period  of  mourning  for  the 
marquis  should  be  abridged.  The  crown  of  Jeru- 
salem was  declared  to  belong  to  the  royal  pair,  and 
Isabella  assumed  the  title  of  queen,  though  Henry, 
with  much  modesty,  continued  still  to  designate 
himself  as  the  count  of  Champagne. 

It  would  have  been  singular  if  so  remarkable  a 
circumstance  as  the  assassination  of  the  marquis 
Conrad  had  been  attributed  only  to  its  real  cause, 
without  malicious  rumour  or  intentional  falsification. 
Accordingly,  with  many,  the  Old  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tain passed  as  the  mere  instrument,  and  not  the 
instigator  of  the  outrage.  Saladin,  Humphrey  of 
Thoron,  and  Richard,  were  severally  suspected  of  a 
share  in  the  bloody  deed,  but  no  doubt  the  charge 
against  all  of  them  was  false.  No  facts  were  men- 
tioned which  could  throw  suspicion  on  any  other 
than  the  Ancient,  who  indeed  gloried  in  his  revenge, 
and  the  rumour,  as  far  as  regarded  Richard,  would 
have  sunk  into  oblivion,  had  it  not  been  revived  on 
an  after  occasion,  as  we  shall  presently  have  occa- 
sion to  state. 


232  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  returns  to  the  Army—  Capture  of  Darum — 
Richard  makes  over  the  Island  of  Cyprus  to  Guy  of  Lusignan — 
Advance  to  Bethanopolis — Skirmishes  with  the  Saracens,  and 
Valour  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester  and  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury — 
Siege  of  Jerusalem  proposed — Capture  of  a  valuable  Caravan  by 
Richard — Retreat  from  Bethanopolis — Final  Defection  of  the 
French  and  Dispersion  of  the  Crusaders — Saladin  takes  Joppa, 
•whereupon  Richard  sails  to  the  Relief  of  the  Garrison — 
The  English  land  and  recover  the  Town — Desperate  Engage- 
ment with  the  Saracens — Personal  daring  of  Richard  and  final 
Victory — Noble  Conduct  of  Malek-el-Adel — Proposals  of  Peace 
accepted — The  Christians  visit  Jerusalem — Interview  between 
the  Sultan  and  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury — Richard  accepts  an 
Escort  from  the  Templars  and  departs  for  Europe — Lands  near 
Trieste — His  Adventures  and  Capture  at  Vienna  by  the  Duke 
of  Austria. 

THE  election  of  Count  Henry  to  the  throne  of  Jeru- 
salem was  so  far  favourable  to  the  interests  of  the 
Crusaders,  that  it  infused  new  energy  into  the  minds 
of  the  French,  who  thought  themselves  equally 
honoured  with  the  English  by  the  exaltation  of  the 
nephew  of  their  sovereign.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
therefore,  at  the  particular  request  of  Henry,  agreed 
to  sink  all  former  differences,  and  once  more  to  co- 
operate hand  and  heart  with  Richard,  should  that 
monarch  remain  longer  in  Palestine,  in  the  prose- 
cution of  the  war ;  and  even  should  he  take  his 
departure,  the  duke  promised  to  wait  until  by  the 
conquest  of  Jerusalem  Henry  was  put  in  possession 
of  his  newly-acquired  kingdom.  The  French  troops 
were  in  consequence  withdrawn  from  Tyre  and  Acre, 
and  marched  along  with  Henry  and  Burgundy 
towards  Ascalon,  where  Richard  still  continued.  The 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  233 

mind  of  that  monarch  was  kept  in  a  perpetual  ferment 
by  the  news  which  he  received  from  England.  Every 
week  fresh  messengers  arrived  with  further  intelli- 
gence of  the  intrigues  of  John,  and  the  steps  which 
he  was  obviously  taking  towards  the  usurpation  of 
the  kingdom.  By  way  of  relief  from  this  anxiety, 
Cceur-de-Lion  rode  out  oftener  than  before  in  search 
of  adventures,  and  had  various  encounters  with  the 
Turks,  wherein  he  proved  himself  such  a  redoubted 
combatant  that,  says  one  historian,  "no  single 
Christian  champion,  since  the  commencement  of  the 
crusades,  ever  slew  or  took  prisoner  so  many  of  the 
infidels  as  did  this  athletic  king*."  Besides  these 
encounters,  he  marched  his  army  against  the  strong 
fortress  of  Darum  on  the  Arabian  frontier,  and  took 
it  after  a  siege  of  four  days.  Other  castles  in  that 
neighbourhood  also  fell  into  his  hands,  and  were 
garrisoned  for  Henry,  who  shortly  afterwards  arrived 
with  the  French  forces  at  Ascalon. 

One  cause  only  of  dissension  seemed  now  to  exist 
among  the  crusaders,  and  that  lay  in  the  treatment 
which  Guy  of  Lusignan  had  received.  The  Templars 
with  some  other  troops  still  adhered  strenuously  to 
his  cause,  vindicating  his  conduct  throughout,  and 
pointing  to  his  sole  exploit,  the  commencement  of  the 
siege  of  Acre,  as  a  proof  of  his  courage  and  capacity. 
Richard,  willing  to  conciliate  these,  and  sincerely 
pitying  the  prospects  of  Guy,  made  over  to  him  his 
conquered  territory  of  Cyprus,  with  the  title  of  em- 
peror, and  thereby  not  only  received  due  credit  for 
his  generosity,  but  had  also  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing that  he  had  removed  the  last  competitor  from 

*  V'nesauf. 


234  THE  LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

the  path  of  his  favourite  nephew.  This  matter  being 
adjusted,  a  great  council  was  held,  at  which  the 
assembled  nobles  and  knights  determined  with  one 
accord  to  advance  against  Jerusalem,whether  Richard 
remained  or  no,  and  signified  to  him  their  determin- 
ation accordingly.  Richard  was  till  then  in  doubt 
what  course  he  should  adopt ;  but  this  unanimity  of 
the  crusaders,  and,  as  it  is  said,  the  eloquent  exhort- 
ations of  a  certain  chaplain,  named  William,  had  the 
effect  of  fixing  his  resolution,  and  he  caused  it  to  be 
proclaimed  through  the  camp  that  he  would  delay 
his  departure  until  after  the  term  of  Easter  in  the 
following  year.  This  announcement  was  rapturously 
received  by  the  soldiers,  who  now  thought  the  cap- 
ture of  Jerusalem  as  secure  as  if  they  were  encamped 
around  it,  or  had  effected  a  breach  in  the  walls.  The 
camp  at  Ascalon  was  speedily  broken  up ;  and  the 
army,  in  the  beginning  of  June,  marched  onwards 
to  Bethanopolis,  where  they  halted  to  await  the 
arrival  of  the  remaining  forces  from  Acre,  for  which 
the  count  of  Champagne  was  despatched  in  order 
that  no  paucity  of  numbers  might  in  any  way  hinder 
their  success,  and  that  all  the  crusaders  in  Palestine 
might  have  an  opportunity  of  sharing  in  the  glorious 
work  of  the  redemption  of  the  sepulchre. 

Bethanopolis  is  situated  seven  leagues  to  the  east 
of  Jerusalem,  and  is  separated  from  that  city  by  a 
chain  of  mountains.  These  were  occupied  by  the 
Saracens,  who,  at  the  command  of  Saladin,  now  really 
alarmed  for  the  safety  of  his  conquests,  mustered  in 
immense  numbers,  and  commenced  their  old  system 
of  annoyance.  Daily  encounters  took  place  between 
them  and  the  Christians  :  sometimes  the  skirmishes 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  235 

occurred  in  the  plain,  sometimes  they  were  fought 
among  the  hills.  Into  the  recesses  of  these,  Richard 
took  delight  in  driving  the  scattered  enemy.  One 
morning,  in  particular,  he  chased  them  so  far  that 
he  found  himself  unexpectedly  at  the  fountain  of 
Emuiaus,  and  in  sight  of  the  Holy  City,  with  all  its 
minarets  and  turrets  gilded  by  the  early  sun.  The 
prospect  of  that  place,  for  the  redemption  of  which 
he  had  come  so  far,  affected  him  even  to  tears ;  nor 
was  it  without  great  difficulty  that  his  attendants 
could  persuade  him  to  retire  from  so  dangerous  a 
vicinity.  At  this  time,  the  Saracen  dwellers  in  Jeru- 
salem were  so  much  terrified  at  the  approach  of  the 
crusaders,  that  they  left  the  city  in  great  numbers. 
Saladin  himself  anticipated  a  defeat  ;  and  had 
Richard  at  once  advanced,  instead  of  encouraging  a 
delay  which  only  served  to  cool  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  men,  the  capital  of  Palestine  Would  have  fallen 
almost  withoiit  resistance  into  his  hands,  and  the 
main  object  of  the  crusade  would  have  been  accom- 
plished. But  a  spirit  of  vacillation  and  doubt, 
hitherto  foreign  to  the  character  of  Cceur-de-Lion, 
seemed  at  this  crisis  to  have  crept  into  his  councils, 
and  deterred  him  from  making  the  last  decisive  effort. 
It  is  obvious  that,  notwithstanding  his  published 
resolution  to  remain,  the  thoughts  of  the  danger  of 
his  own  kingdom,  and  of  the  friends  in  England 
who  were  hourly  praying  for  his  return,  still  beset 
him  ;  if  glory  called  him  forward,  duty,  with  as 
imperious  if  not  so  loud  a  voice  summoned  him  back, 
and  between  the  two,  Richard  remained  irresolute. 

The  army,  as  on  former  occasions,  speedily  ex- 
hausted their  provisions,  and   accordingly  a  line  of 


236  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

communication  was  established  between  the  port  of 
Joppa  and  the  camp  at  Bethanopolis.  A  large 
caravan  set  out  from  the  former  place  under  the 
escort  of  a  few  knights,  the  chief  of  whom  were 
Baldwin  Carron  and  Claribald  de  Mont  Chablun, 
and  proceeded  on  their  journey  as  far  as  Ramula 
without  encountering  any  opposition.  The  Saracens, 
however,  having  received  notice  of  their  intention, 
placed  a  large  body  of  troops  under  the  Emir  Bed- 
roddin,  in  ambuscade  at  a  very  dangerous  part  of 
the  road,  where  discovery  was  next  to  impossible. 
The  crusaders  fell  into  the  snare,  and  were  attacked 
by  the  Saracens  on  all  sides  while  struggling  through 
the  intricacies  of  the  defile.  Many  of  the  knights 
were  dragged  from  their  horses,  disarmed,  and  hurried 
away  to  the  mountains ;  most  of  those  who  still  con- 
tinued the  contest  were  wounded  and  overpowered  ; 
and  the  whole  caravan  would  have  fallen  into  the 
bauds  of  the  enemy,  had  not  the  opportune  arrival  of 
the  Earl  of  Leicester,  with  a  considerable  force, 
changed  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  and  compelled  the 
Saracens  to  retire.  Another  skirmish  of  a  similar 
nature  took  place  about  the  same  time  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Bethanopolis,  wherein  the  bishop  of 
Salisbury,  more  warrior  than  priest,  gained  great 
reputation  by  his  deeds  of  arms,  having  brought  off  in 
safety  the  routed  band  of  Hospitallers,  whom  the 
Count  of  Perche,  through  timidity,  had  failed  to 
succour*. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  summer,  and  the  army 
had  lain  at  Bethanopolis  for  the  space  of  a  month 
idle,  except  when  occupied  by  petty  and  useless 

*  Vinesauf ;  Bohadin. 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  237 

skirmishes,  and  still  undecided  as  to  what  course 
they  ought  to  pursue.  This  state  of  things  could 
not  continue  longer, .and"  accordingly  another  council 
was  summoned,  at  which,  as  usual,  the  greatest 
diversity  of  opinion  prevailed.  The  French  and 
others  of  the  crusaders  expressed  their  wish  to  march 
straight  upon  Jerusalem,  but  Richard  did  not  approve 
of  their  proposal.  Saladin,  he  said,  was  evidently 
informed  of  all  their  movements ;  every  spring  of 
water  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Jerusalem  was  de- 

O 

stroyed,  and  as  soon  as  they  should  encamp  before  the 
city,  troops  of  Saracens  would  fall  upon  Ramula  and 
Joppa,  and  not  only  intercept  the  stores  on  their 
way  to  the  army,  but  perhaps  make  themselves 
masters  of  these  towns.  It  was  moreover  admitted 
by  those  who  knew  the  country  best,  that  so  great 
was  the  extent  of  the  fortifications  of  Jerusalem, 
that  all  the  forces  which  the  crusaders  could  muster, 
even  by  withdrawing  the  garrisons  from  Acre  and 
Ascalon,  would  be  insufficient  by  one  half  to  establish 
a  blockade,  and  as  for  carrying  it  by  assault,  no  soldier 
would  be  hardy  enough  to  propose  much  less  to 
undertake  so  extravagant  a  design.  "  Therefore  on 
the  whole,"  said  Cceur-de-Lion,  "  if  you  will  march 
against  Jerusalem,  you  must  not  expect  me  to  be 
your  leader.  I  will  go  with  you  as  a  companion, 
and  aid  you  so  far  as  I  can,  but  I  will  not  undertake 
a  charge,  accompanied  with  so  much  responsibility. 
They  of  France  have  blamed  me  before  for  my  pre- 
cipitation, and  have  raised  an  outcry  against  me,  as 
if  I  cared  little  for  the  safety  of  my  people  in  the 
prosecution  of  my  designs, — and  I  see  full  well  that 
there  are  some  who  are  fain  to  have  me  peril  my 


238  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

reputation  upon  this  design,  and  whose  sorrow  for 
the  failure  of  the  cause  of  Christendom  would  be 
light  compared  with  their  exultation  at  my  personal 
defeat.  My  advice  is,  that  we  should  seek  out  some 
more  practicable  conquest ;  but,  that  no  man  may 
hereafter  say  that  I  invented  reasons  for  abandoning 
the  siege,  let  the  decision  of  this  matter  be  referred 
to  the  Templars,  Hospitallers,  and  native  barons, 
who  are  chiefly  interested  in  our  progress,  and  whose 
ancient  possessions  it  is  ourcommon  object  to  restore." 
This  last  advice  was  followed,  and  twenty  men  were 
chosen,  five  from  the  Templars,  five  from  the  Hos- 
pitallers, five  from  the  Syrian  barons,  and  five  from 
the  crusaders  of  Europe.  These  were  solemnly 
sworn  upon  the  Evangelists,  to  consult  together  as  to 
the  further  prosecution  of  the  war  in  all  good  faith 
and  probity,  and  with  no  other  object  than  the  wel- 
fare of  Christendom  in  their  view,  and  their  decision, 
whatever  it  might  be,  was  to  regulate  entirely  and 
without  appeal  the  future  proceedings  of  the  army. 
The  result  of  their  deliberation  was  to  confirm  the 
judgment  of  Richard  in  so  far  as  regarded  the  attack 
upon  Jerusalem,  and  they  further  advised  that  an 
attack  should  be  made  upon  Cairo,  which  might 
easily  be  reached  by  sea,  before  any  of  the  Saracens 
now  collected  in  Palestine  could  gather  for  its  defence. 
The  French  still  murmured,  protesting  that  they 
would  besiege  no  city  except  Jerusalem  ;  but  it  was 
obvious  that  their  attitude  of  determination  was 
assumed  more  for  the  purpose  of  annoying  Richard, 
than  from  any  genuine  disappointment  they  felt  in 
turning  their  backs  upon  the  Holy  City.  In  vain 
did  Coeur-de-Lion  offer  them  the  use  of  his  navy, 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  239 

his  stores,  his  men,  and  even  his  personal  assistance, 
if  they  would  only  yield  to  the  opinion  of  that  council 
whom  they  themselves  had  nominated,  and  proceed 
to  Cairo — in  vain  did  even  their  own  friends,  the 
Templars,  entreat  them  to  consent.  The  demon  of 
jealousy  had  entered  into  the  hearts  of  the  French, 
and  they  still  lingered  at  Bethanopolis,  repeating 
their  worthless  bravadoes  to  the  disgust  of  all  the 
better  portion  of  the  camp. 

Richard,  whilst  engaged  in  this  fruitless  negocia- 
tion,  was  informed  by  his  spies  that  an  immense 
caravan  from  Cairo,  laden  with  the  most  costly  wares, 
was  on  the  road  to  Jerusalem,  and  might  be  expected 
in  a  short  time  to  pass  near  Gaza,  where  the  nature 
of  the  country  was  such  as  to  render  an  attack  not 
only  easy  but  almost  certainly  successful.  The 
instant  that  he  received  this  intelligence,  Richard 
departed  with  a  chosen  body  of  troops,  and  discovered 
the  place  where  the  caravan  rested  for  the  night. 
The  Saracens,  however,  took  the  alarm,  and  departed 
long  before  day-break,  so  that  when  the  Christians 
advanced  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  them,  they 
found  the  fires  extinguished  and  the  enemy  gone. 
A  mounted  body  of  archers  and  crossbow-men  were 
dispatched  on  the  track,  with  orders  to  hang  upon 
the  rear  of  the  Saracens,  and  to  use  every  means  for 
impeding  their  progress,  while  the  rest  of  the  cavalry 
followed  at  more  leisure.  The  manoeuvre  was  suc- 
cessful. In  spite  of  very  desperate  resistance  the 
Christians  succeeded  in  putting  their  enemies  to  the 
rout,  and  returned  to  Bethanopolis  in  triumph,  with 
the  largest  and  most  valuable  booty  that  had  ever 
fallen  into  their  hands.  Some  idea  of  the  size  of 


240  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

tills  caravan  may  be  formed,  when  we  mention 
that  four  thousand  seven  hundred  camels  and 
dromedaries,  besides  .  horses,  mules,  and  asses,  all 
laden  with  the  most  precious  products  and  manu- 
factures of  the  East,  were  taken  by  the  victors. 
Richard  behaved  with  his  usual  generosity,  and 
caused  the  greater  part  of  the  spoil  to  be  divided 
amongst  the  soldiers,  not  excluding  those  who  had 
remained  in  the  camp  from  a  participation  with  the 
rest. 

The  time  appointed  by  the  council  for  the  depart- 
ure of  the  crusaders  from  Bethanopolis  now  arrived, 
and  the  soldiers  struck  their  tents  and  formed  into 
marching  order,  not  in  hope  or  triumph  as  before, 
but  in  silence  and  sorrow,  as  exiles  might  begin  their 
dreary  journey  from  the  land  of  their  nativity  and 
love.  Many  of  these  no  doubt  had  assumed  the 
cross  with  a  keener  regard  to  their  own  interest  than 
to  the  advancement  of  the  Christian  faith,  but  there 
were  others  in  that  army,  and  their  number  was  not 
small,  who  set  sail  for  Palestine  with  no  other  object 
than  that  of  visiting  the  soil  of  their  redemption, 
and  rescuing  it  if  possible  from  the  profanation  of  its 
infidel  owners, — men  who,  in  the  distant  countries 
of  Europe,  had  felt  their  hearts  burn  within  them  at 
the  mere  mention  of  Calvary  and  Jerusalem — who 
had  meditated  by  day  and  dreamed  by  night  of  the 
brook  Cedron  and  the  mount  of  Olives, — the  mys- 
tical scenes  of  the  Transfiguration,  the  Temptation, 
and  the  Agony  in  the  garden, — until  every  other 
feeling  was  swallowed  up  in  the  strong  absorbent 
desire  to  tread  upon  that  ground  and  kneel  upon 
that  sward  once  hallowed  by  the  foot  of  their  Sa- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  241 

viour.  And  what  was  their  situation  now  ?  After 
years  of  suffering  and  toil, — after  enduring  the  ter- 
rors of  shipwreck,  pestilence,  and  the  sword,  after 
braving  an  unwholesome  climate,  and  contending 
almost  daily  with  a  subtle  and  pertinacious  enemy, 
they  had  come  so  far,  that  only  one  chain  of  moun- 
tains, of  itself  an  insignificant  barrier,  separated  them 
from  the  land  of  promise.  They  looked  upon  the 
confines  of  the  most  sacred  portion  of  the  earth;  the 
breeze  that  blew  upon  them  came  fresh  from  the 
gardens  of  Jerusalem.  The  Saracen  sentinels,  the 
sparkling  of  whose  lances  upon  the  hill-tops  they 
could  discern  clearly  from  the  camp,  stood  in  like 
view  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Holy  City,  and  yet 
that  short  distance  was  as  unachievable  as  if  the 
widest  and  deepest  chasms  of  the  glaciers  had  yawned 
between  them  and  the  summit  of  the  mountains. 
Others  of  the  army  commenced  their  retreat  with 
even  sorer  hearts  and  bitterer  feelings  than  the  class 
we  have  just  described.  These  were  the  old  inhabit- 
ants of  Jerusalem,  the  men  who  had  been  born  and 
bred  within  the  walls  of  Sion,  who  had  left  their 
homes  in  sorrow  when  the  Saracen  obtained  posses- 
sion of  the  land,  who  remembered  the  days  of  Ray- 
mond and  Amaury,  and  the  bloody  battle  of  Tiberias. 
For  long  years  they  had  cherished  the  hope  of  one 
day  returning  to  the  place  of  their  nativity,  and  now 
they  saw  that  hope,  when  its  accomplishment  seemed 
in  all  human  probability  the  nearest,  fade  away  and 
for  ever.  Never  perhaps  was  there  exhibited  a  more 
doleful  spectacle  than  this  most  melancholy  march. 
The  very  music  was  silenced  and  the  troops  wended 
on  their  way  with  arms  reversed,  for  the  occasion 
R 


242  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

was  too  mournful  to  admit  of  any  manifestation  of 
military  pomp  or  parade. 

Thus  the  army  returned  to  Joppa,  and  no  sooner 
did  they  reach  the  sea-coast,  than  the  worst  effects 
of  their  late  disunion  began  to  be  manifested.  The 
duke  of  Burgundy,  with  the  greater  part  of  the 
French,  took  up  his  quarters  at  Cesarea,  and  refused 
any  longer  to  co-operate  with  Richard.  This 
nobleman  had  always  been  hostile  to  the  English 
and  their  king.  At  Messina,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  he  was  the  confidential  emissary  and  abettor  of 
the  plots  of  Philip,  whose  unworthy  policy  he  fol- 
lowed out  to  the  fullest  extent,  when  intrusted  with 
the  army  of  his  master.  Now  his  malignity  was 
vented  in  scurrilous  lampoons  and  songs  against  the 
English  monarch,  which  he  stooped  not  only  to 
compose,  but  to  distribute  among  his  soldiers,  as  if 
there  were  not  already  sufficient  elements  of  discord 
in  the  Christian  army,  without  the  aid  and  instiga- 
tion of  his  own  contemptible  genius.  Others  of  the 
crusaders  proceeded  direct  to  Acre  and  Tyre,  and 
thus  the  numbers  of  those  who  remained  at  head- 
quarters was  so  much  lessened,  that  Richard  could 
not  but  perceive  the  impossibility  of  prosecuting  the 
expedition  against  Cairo,  and  therefore  turned  his 
serious  attention  to  the  best  mode  of  embarking  his 
troops  for  Europe,  and  of  abandoning  the  crusade 
with  honour.  Saladin  in  the  mean  time  was  not  idle. 
Accurate  information  of  all  that  passed  in  the  Chris- 
tian army  was  conveyed  to  him,  and  he  was  far  too 
sagacious  not  to  perceive  that  the  prospects  and 
power  of  the  Christians  were  ruined  by  their  own 
dissension,  and  that  the  time  had  arrived  when  a 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  243 

rapid  and  vigorous  attack  would  recover  all  the 
losses  which  he  had  sustained,  and  enable  him  to 
dictate  his  own  terms  to  the  harassed  and  abandoned 
Latins.  Therefore  without  a  moment's  delay  he 
despatched  messengers  to  every  corner  of  the  exten- 
sive regions  over  which  he  ruled,  and  in  an  incredibly 
short  space  of  time  collected  round  his  standard  at 
Jerusalem,  a  larger  force  of  cavalry  and  infantry 
than  he  had  ever  before  led  to  battle.  Richard  was 
not  ignorant  of  these  preparations,  and  although 
when  affairs  wore  a  different  aspect,  he  would  rather 
have  rejoiced  at  the  opportunity  of  measuring  his 
strength  in  a  fair  field  with  his  Saracen  rival,  and 
would  have  staked  the  fate  of  Palestine  with  con- 
fidence upon  the  result;  yet  now,  knowing  how  little 
his  allies  were  to  be  depended  on,  and  how  impor- 
tant it  was  for  him  to  secure  a  speedy  and  unmo- 
lested retreat  for  his  army,  he  deemed  it  prudent  to 
offer  terms  for  a  truce  during  the  remainder  of  his 
stay  in  the  Holy  Land.  To  these  proposals  Saladin 
would  not  agree,  unless  Ascalon  were  levelled  with 
the  ground ;  whereupon  Richard  being  determined 
not  to  yield  this  point,  and  seeing  the  inutility  of 
further  negotiation,  despatched  the  Templars  and 
Hospitallers  with  orders  to  pull  down  the  fortifi- 
cations of  Darum,  as  it  was  a  place  which  could  not 
be  long  maintained  against  a  superior  force,  and  also 
to  establish  a  sufficient  garrison  for  the  defence  of 
Ascalon.  The  wounded  and  sick  of  his  army  he  left 
at  Joppa,  and  proceeding  to  Acre  with  the  rest, 
began  to  embark  his  stores  and  to  make  such  dis- 
positions as  would  enable  him  to  quit  Palestine  at  a 
moment's  notice  if  necessary. 
R  2 


244  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

No  sooner  was  Saladin  aware  of  the  motions  of  the 
enemy  than  he  marched  from  Jerusalem,  and  de- 
scending by  the  plain  of  Ramula,  invested  Joppa  and 
erected  his  engines  against  it.  With  such  fury  did 
he  make  the  assault,  that  in  five  days  a  large  portion 
of  the  walls  was  battered  to  the  ground,  and  the 
Turks  having  effected  their  entrance  into  the  city, 
slaughtered  all  whom  they  met.  Some  of  the  garrison, 
at  the  head  of  whom  was  the  governor  Alberic  de 
Remes,  a  man  unworthy  of  the  high  trust  confided 
to  his  care,  fled  to  the  harbour  and  consulted  their 
own  safety  by  seizing  the  vessels  and  putting  out  to 
sea.  Others,  with  more  determination,  took  refuge 
in  the  citadel,  and  maintained  it  against  Saladin, 
until  it  became  obvious  that  resistance  was  useless, 
since  the  walls  were  fast  crumbling  down  before  the 
incessant  battery  of  the  engines.  In  this  desperate 
situation,  the  patriarch  of  Jerusalem  assumed  the 
principal  command,  and  having  hung  out  a  flag  of 
truce,  made  offer  to  Saladin  that  the  fortress  should 
be  next  day  surrendered,  provided  succour  did  not  in 
the  mean  time  arrive,  and  that  a  certain  ransom 
should  be  paid  for  every  one  of  the  garrison.  In 
security  for  the  performance  of  these  articles,  he 
offered  himself,  and  several  of  the  most  distinguished 
knights  in  Joppa,  as  hostages,  and  Saladin  consented 
to  the  proposal. 

Meanwhile  Richard  had  embarked  the  greatest 
part  of  his  army  at  Acre,  and  was  just  on  the  point 
of  setting  sail,  when  messengers  from  Joppa  arrived 
with  tidings  of  the  loss  of  that  town,  and  the  perilous 
situation  of  those  who  were  cooped  up  within  the 
citadel.  The  appeal  from  his  beleaguered  brethren 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  245 

was  not  lost  upon  Richard,  who  instantly  proclaimed 
his  intention  of  hastening  to  their  relief,  and  invited 
all  the  crusaders  who  still  lingered  at  Acre  to  aid 
him  in  his  generous  design.  The  French  most  dis- 
gracefully refused  to  stir  one  step,  or  to  co-operate 
further  in  any  way  with  the  English  ;  but  the  Tem- 
plars and  Hospitallers  displayed  their  usual  gallantry, 
and  headed  by  the  count  of  Champagne,  instantly 
marched  by  land  towards  Cesarea.  The  king  set  sail  in 
his  galleys  for  Joppa,  but  a  contrary  wind  detained 
him  so  long  off  Caiphas  that  he  did  not  arrive  at  his 
destination  until  the  very  day  fixed  for  the  ransom 
of  the  garrison.  These  had  now  abandoned  all  hope 
of  relief,  and  were  just  on  the  point  of  delivering 
themselves  up  to  the  mercy  of  the  Saracens,  when, 
to  their  great  joy,  they  beheld  the  vessels  of  England 
steering  into  the  port. 

It  was  nevertheless  no  easy  matter  for  the  English 
to  disembark.  The  Turks,  who  were  in  possession 
of  the  town,  perceived  the  approach  of  the  galleys, 
rushed  down  in  great  numbers  to  the  shore,  and  com- 
menced an  incessant  discharge  of  arrows,  darts,  and 
stones,  against  the  intruders.  Richard  was  still  in 
doubt  whether  the  garrison  had  surrendered  or  not ; 
and  as  their  relief  was  the  primary  object,  without 
which  he  would  have  judged  it  unnecessary  to 
attempt  the  recapture  of  the  town,  he  remained  on 
board,  anxiously  expecting  some  signal  or  token  that 
he  had  not  arrived  too  late.  While  thus  irresolute, 
a  man  was  seen  swimming  towards  the  king's  vessel, 
and  was  taken  up.  He  proved  to  be  a  priest  attached 
to  the  train  of  the  patriarch,  who  guessing  the  cause  of 
the  delay,  had  resorted  to  this  desperate  expedient 


246  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

of  communicating  the  perilous  state  of  the  besieged. 
The  garrison,  he  said,  could  hold  out  no  longer, 
and  were  in  momentary  expectation  that  the  fortress 
would  be  carried  by  assault,  in  which  case  every 
man  would  certainly  be  put  to  the  sword.  He  there- 
fore conjured  Richard,  as  he  loved  his  friends,  to 
effect  an  immediate  landijig,  and  save  the  remnant 
of  the  defenders  of  Joppa  from  so  miserable  a  fate. 
Coeur  de  Lion  did  not  hesitate  a  moment :  he  ordered 
his  galleys  to  be  roSved  up  until  their  keels  touched 
the  bottom ;  and  no  sooner  was  this  done  than  he 
leaped  into  the  water,  although  it  reached  nearly  to 
his  waist,  and  followed  by  some  of  his  trusty  knights, 
struggled  towards  the  shore  in  the  face  of  thousands 
of  the  opposing  enemy.  At  the  same  time  the  cross- 
bowmen  and  the  archers  from  the  ships  shot  so  closely 
that  the  Saracens  gave  back  a  little,  and  the  rest  cf 
the  troops  followed  the  example  of  their  king.  Once 
on  land,  Richard  stayed  not  for  reinforcements,  but 
threw  himself  into  the  thickest  of  the  throng,  and 
after  a  brief  but  desperate  combat  drove  back  the 
Turks  into  the  heart  of  the  city.  Upon  this  the 
garrison,  who  had  eagerly  watched  the  progress  of 
the  fight,  made  a  vigorous  sally,  and  uniting  them- 
selves with  the  English,  so  improved  their  advantage, 
that  in  the  space  of  an  hour  not  a  Turk  was  left 
within  the  walls,  and  Joppa  was  once  more  in  the 
possession  of  the  Christians.  The  fortifications, 
however,  were  so  ruinous,  and  the  camp  of  Saladin 
was  so  near,  that  Richard  did  not  judge  it  prudent 
to  rest  contented  with  this  success.  Although  only 
three  horses  could  at  the  moment  be  procured,  he 
collected  his  men  together,  and  once  more  throwing 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  247 

open  the  gate,  marched  upon  the  Saracens  before 
they  had  recovered  from  their  panic,  and  actually 
drove  them  from  their  position.  The  three  following 
days  were  occupied  in  repairing  the  walls  ;  and  this 
was  done  so  far  as  to  render  the  city  defensible, 
though  neither  lime  nor  mortar  could  by  any  means 
be  procured. 

Meantime  Saladin,  angry  and  ashamed  that  a 
mere  handful  of  the  warriors  of  the  West  should 
thus  have  discomfited  his  numerous  army,  held 
a  council  of  his  emirs,  at  which  it  was  determined 
that  a  general  attack  should  be  instantly  made  upon 
the  enemy  who  remained  encamped  before  the  town, 
and  that  this  should  be  done  before  any  reinforce- 
ments could  arrive  from  Acre  or  from  Tyre*.  In 
this  last  respect,  however,  they  were  disappointed, 
for  on  the  third  day,  Count  Henry  of  Champagne, 
with  his  little  band  of  Templars  and  Hospitallers, 
joined  his  uncle.  Still,  even  with  this  accession  of 
force,  the  number  of  crusaders  was  insignificant,  com- 
pared with  that  of  their  enemies ;  and  the  council  of 
Saladin  further  determined  that  the  attempt  should 
be  made  in  the  grey  of  the  morning,  with  the  double 
object  of  taking  the  Christians  unawares,  and  per- 
haps of  seizing  Richard  as  he  lay  in  his  tent  asleep. 
The  Saracens  therefore  armed  themselves  over  night, 
and  advanced  with  so  much  caution  that  they  were 
not  perceived  until  they  were  close  upon  the  camp, 
when  one  of  the  Genoese,  hearing  the  neighing  of 
horses,  looked  out  from  his  tent  and  instantly  gave  the 
alarm.  In  a  moment  the  Christians  were  astir,  and 
hurried  forth  in  great  confusion  with  such  armour 
*  Bohadin. 


248  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

only  as  came  readiest  to  hand.  Fortunately,  the 
Saracens  on  perceiving  that  their  approach  was  dis- 
covered, halted  for  a  brief  space,  so  that  Richard  had 
time  to  arrange  his  men  in  a  square,  •which  he  did 
with  consummate  address,  placing  between  each 
pikeman  two  archers,  who  that  day  did  admirable 
execution.  He  then  exhorted  them  above  all  things 
to  remain  in  their  places,  and  on  no  account  to 
attempt  a  charge,  even  though  the  enemy  should 
appear  to  fly ;  and  having  done  this,  he,  along  with 
ten  other  knights,  all  poorly  mounted,  but  who  con- 
stituted the  whole  of  his  cavalry,  fell  back  behind  the 
battalion*. 

The  Saracens  advanced  in  seven  squadrons ;  the 
first  of  which  charged  impetuously  on  the  Christians, 
but  were  received  on  the  point  of  the  pikes,  and 
forced  to  retire  in  confusion ;  the  archers  at  the  same 
time  sent  a  volley  after  them,  by  which  many  a 
saddle  was  emptied.  The  second,  third,  and  fourth 
squadrons  were  received  in  like  manner.  Nothing 
could  break  the  iron  front  which  the  English  reso- 
lutely maintained,  so  that  the  Turks  presently 
desisted  from  the  attempt  to  come  to  close  quarters, 
and  commenced  their  favourite  mode  of  warfare  by 
hurling  javelins  and  discharging  arrows  into  the 
midst  of  the  impenetrable  phalanx.  This  was  the 

*  The  names  of  these  knights  are  well  worthy  of  preservation,  as 
their  exploit  before  Joppa  was  what,  in  modern  phrase,  would  be 
termed  one  of  the  most  dashing  actions  recorded  in  the  annals  of  the 
crusades.  They  were  as  follows  : — Henry,  Count  of  Champagne  ; 
Robert,  Earl  of  Leicester  ;  Bartholomew  de  Morternar ;  Raoul  de 
Mauleon  ;  Andrew  de  Savigny  ;  Gerald  de  Furnival  ;  Roger  de 
Lacy ;  William  de  L'Estang ;  Hugh  de  Neville  ;  and  William  de 
Barres. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  249 

signal  for  Richard  to  appear ;  and,  accordingly,  after 
he  had  addressed  a  few  words  of  encouragement  to 
his  knights,  on  whom  he  knew  that  he  could  depend 
to  the  death,  this  little  company  deployed  from  the 
rear,  and  dashed  at  once  into  the  crowd  of  their 
assailants.  When  we  consider  the  enormous  supe- 
riority of  the  Saracens  in  number,  this  action  appears 
little  short  of  actual  insanity  ;  nor  woiild  it  have  been 
at  all  excusable,  had  there  been  any  other  way  of 
diverting  the  attack  upon  the  battalion  :  but  such 
was  his  dilemma,  that  personal  risk  entered  even  less 
than  ever  into  the  calculations  of  the  lion-hearted 
monarch.  He  knew  his  own  strength,  and  trusted 
moreover  to  the  terror  which  his  appearance  always 
excited  among  the  Turks.  Some  of  his  followers,  as 
the  Earl  of  Leicester  and  "William  de  Barres,  were 
scarcely  less  formidable  or  less  feared  than  himself, 
and  the  others  were  all  good  knights  and  true ;  so, 
reckless  of  consequences,  and  trusting  to  the  goodness 
of  his  cause,  he  went  forth  against  odds,  which 
Rolando  or  Oliver  might  have  shuddered  to  encounter. 
The  first  line  of  the  Turks  gave  way  before  the 
impetuous  charge  of  the  knights,  each  of  whom  with 
his  lance,  bore  an  antagonist  from  the  saddle.  The 
second  squadron  opened  in  like  manner  to  let  them 
pass ;  but  then  closed  up,  so  that  the  cavaliers  were 
instantly  surrounded,  shut  out  from  the  view  of  their 
battalion,  and  forced  to  contend  for  their  lives — eleven 
against  seven  thousand.  Their  situation  of  course 
precluded  all  concert,  so  each  man  drew  his  sword  and 
addressed  himself  to  the  nearest  of  the  enemy,  who, 
though  astounded  at  their  temerity,  pressed  eagerly 


250  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

forward,  in  the  confident  expectation  of  seizing  the 
persons  of  Richard  and  the  other  terrible  warriors,  of 
whose  prowess  in  many  battles  they  had  gained  such 
dear  experience.  But  it  was  no  easy  task  to  unseat 
the  English  cavaliers.  The  first  who  drew  near  for 
that  purpose  were  struck  to  the  ground,  and  tram- 
pled under  the  horses'  hoofs,  whilst  the  blows  of  the 
sabre  and  javelin  fell  harmlessly  upon  the  steel-clad 
knights.  Richard,  in  particular,  distinguished  him- 
self this  day,  putting  forth  the  whole  of  his  gigantic 
strength,  and  opening  a  lane  wherever  he  went 
through  the  thickest  of  the  Saracen  array.  Once 
when  the  horse  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester  was  slain,  he 
rescued  that  gallant  nobleman  from  the  hands  of 
his  assailants,  and  helped  him  to  a  Saracen  courser. 
At  another  time  he  cut  his  way  into  the  heart  of  a 
squadron  who  were  carrying  off  Raoul  cle  Mauleon  in 
triumph,  and  likewise  set  him  free.  In  short  what- 
ever mortal  man  could  do  or  dare,  was  dared  and 
done  by  Coeur  de  Lion  ;  and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to 
say,  that  in  this  instance  the  actual  truth  of  history 
far  exceeds  anything  contained  in  the  wildest  fictions 
of  romance.  And  here  on  the  part  of  the  Saracen 
we  meet  with  a  splendid  example  of  that  romantic 
generosity,  which  to  those  who  understand  not  the 
ancient  chivalrous  spirit,  must  appear  extravagant 
and  false.  In  the  middle  of  the  engagement,  a  Turk, 
leading  two  war-horses,  splendidly  caparisoned,  ap- 
proached Richard,  and  informed  him  in  the  lingua 
Franca  that  these  were  a  present  from  his  master, 
Malek-al-Adel  to  the  Melech-ric,  and  that  he  prayed 
him  to  make  use  of  them  in  his  extremity.  Richard 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  251 

thanked  the  messenger,  and  mounting  one  of  these 
chargers,  plunged  again  into  the  middle  of  the 
enemy*. 

During  the  combat,  some  Saracens  perceiving 
that  there  was  no  garrison  in  Joppa,  entered  the 
town  by  a  breach  which  was  only  partially  repaired, 
and  attempted  to  take  possession  of  the  citadel. 
Richard  having  cleared  himself  of  the  press,  drew  off 
in  haste  a  body  of  the  archers,  with  whom  he  burst 
into  the  town,  and  speedily  drove  out  the  aggressors. 
He  then  returned  to  the  camp  where  the  battle  was 
still  raging,  and  singling  out  the  emir  who  com- 
manded in  front,  a  tall  and  stalwart  pagan,  dealt 
him  such  a  blow  that  he  severed  the  head  and  right 
arm  from  the  body.  This  completed  his  triumph. 
The  enemy,  dismayed  at  the  loss  of  their  leader,  and 
dreading  to  encounter  so  formidable  a  champion, 
retired  precipitately,  leaving  seven  hundred  of  their 
number  dead  upon  the  plain,  whilst  not  one  knight, 
but  only  two  of  the  common  soldiers,  perished  on  the 
part  of  the  Christiansf . 

Notwithstanding  this  victory,  it  was  obvious  that 
the  English,  whose  whole  number  did  not  amount  to 
five  hundred  men,  could  not  maintain  themselves 
long  in  Joppa  against  the  overwhelming  power  of 
Saladin,  and  this  became  still  more  painfully  evident 
when,  in  consequence  of  fatigue  and  over-exertion, 
Richard  was  seized  by  another  attack  of  his  old 
disorder.  In  this  situation,  while  they  daily  expected 
to  behold  the  enemy  advancing  from  Ramula,  to 
which  town  they  had  retired  immediately  after  the 
battle,  Henry  of  Champagne,  on  the  part  of  his  uncle, 
*  See  Note  D.  -f-  Vinesuuf. — Bohadin. 


252  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

opened  a  communication  with  the  French  at  Acre, 
and  again  solicited  their  assistance.  This  negotiation 
was  as  fruitless  as  the  former,  but  the  French  had 
now  a  better  excuse  for  withholding:  their  aid,  as 

O  * 

their  leader,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  lay  iipon  his 
death-bed,  and  many  more  were  suffering  from  fever 
in  its  most  malignant  form.  When  this  was  told  to 
Richard  he  evinced  but  little  surprise,  and  expressed 
a  wish  that  he  might  be  conveyed  to  Ascalon,  where 
he  would  make  a  stand  for  Christendom  as  long  as 
one  of  the  English  or  a -Templar  and  Hospitaller 
remained  by  his  side.  But  even  his  most  devoted 
followers  were  now  convinced  of  the  inutility  of 
further  resistance,  and  conjured  him  so  earnestly  to 
offer  some  terms  to  Saladin  by  which  his  own  retreat 
might  be  secured,  and  a  portion  at  least  of  their  old 
possessions  left  in  the  hands  of  the  native  Christians, 
that  he  yielded  to  their  entreaties,  and  commenced  a 
negotiation  with  the  sultan  through  the  medium  of 
Malek-al-Adel,  who  proved  himself  a  truer  friend 
than  many  who  wore  the  cross  upon  their  shoulder. 
A  truce  was  agreed  upon  between  the  Christians  and 
Saracens,  and  its  duration  fixed  at  the  term  of  three 
years,  three  months,  three  weeks,  and  three  days, 
from  and  after  the  succeeding  feast  of  Easter.  The 
castles  and  fortresses  taken  by  the  Christians  since 
the  siege  of  Acre,  especially  Ascalon,  were  to  be 
demolished.  The  country  from  the  sea-coast  to  the 
central  chain  of  mountains  was  to  remain  in  the 
hands  of  the  Christians,  and  the  rest  ceded  to  Sala- 
din, with  the  exception  of  Ascalon,  which  it  was 
agreed  shoiild  belong  to  neither  until  the  expiration 
of  the  truce,  when  it  was  to  fall  to  the  lot  of  that 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  253 

party  esteemed  the  strongest  at  the  time.  In  the 
mean  while,  all  Christians  were  to  be  allowed  free 
passage  and  safe-conduct  to  Jerusalem,  and  permis- 
sion to  worship  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  provided 
they  came  in  small  numbers  and  in  the  garb  of  peace. 
After  these  terms  were  arranged  various  messages 
expressive  of  the  xitmost  good- will  and  consideration 
passed  between  Richard  and  the  sultan;  and  although 
the  two  monarchs  never  met  in  person,  Malek-al- 
Adel  and  others  of  the  Turkish  nobility  were 
frequent  visitors  at  Joppa,  and  became  especial 
favourites  with  the  English  knights,  although  not 
with  the  Templars  or  Hospitallers,  whose  prejudices 
were  far  too  deeply  rooted  to  approve  of  any  inter- 
course with  a  heathen. 

After  a  short  period  Richard  retired  to  Caiphas, 
for  the  re-establishment  of  his  health,  and  as  he 
was  about  to  leave  Palestine  for  ever,  he  begged  of 
Saladin  that  he  would  suffer  his  army  to  visit  in  peace 
that  holy  city,  which  they  had  failed  to  reduce  by 
the  force  of  their  arms.  Saladin  courteously  granted 
his  permission,  which  extended  to  all  the  crusaders 
except  the  French,  whom,  on  account  of  their  late 
conduct,  Richard  did  not  deem  worthy  of  such  an 
honour.  Accordingly  the  army  proceeded  to  Jeru- 
salem in  three  several  divisions,  and  after  visiting  all 
that  was  most  remarkable  and  sacred  in  that  city 
and  its  neighbourhood,  retired  in  peace  to  Acre. 
The  bishop  of  Salisbury,  who  led  the  third  division, 
was  received  by  Saladin  with  marked  distinction, 
and  was  admitted  to  the  honour  of  a  personal  inter- 
view, for  which,  by  the  way,  it  was  somewhat 
remarkable  that  the  worthy  prelate  did  not  incur  the 


254  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

censure  of  the  head  of  the  church  ;  since  the  "  hende 
soldan  "  was  in  those  days  considered,  by  all  ortho- 
dox Catholics,  as  a  personage  only  inferior  in  wicked- 
ness and  malignity  to  the  arch-enemy  of  mankind. 
After  an  interesting  conversation  regarding  the  cha- 
racter and  peculiarities  of  the  Melech-Ric,  and  the 
reputation  of  the  sultan  with  the  English,  Saladin, 
after  the  Eastern  manner,  desired  the  bishop  to  ask  a 
boon,  which  Salisbury  did  by  requesting  that  at  Je- 
rusalem, Bethlehem,  and  Nazareth,  two  Latin  priests 
and  two  deacons  might  be  permitted  in  future  to  reside, 
and  perform  the  ceremonies  of  their  own  religion,  for 
the  edification  of  all  pilgrims  who  might  come  to 
worship  at  these  holy  places.  Saladin  immediately 
gave  his  consent,  and  the  bishop  returned  to  Acre 
highly  gratified  with  the  result  of  his  journey. 

No  object  of  importance  now  remained  which 
could  detain  Richard  in  Palestine.  Accordingly  he 
proceeded  to  satisfy  his  creditors  in  the  different 
towns,  and  took  an  affectionate  farewell  of  his 
nephew  the  count  of  Champagne,  now  king  of  Jeru- 
salem, and  of  the  valiant  Latin. warriors  who  had  so 
well  supported  him  in  battle.  As  recent  accounts 
from  Europe  led  him  to  suspect  the  treachery  of 
Philip  and  his  collusion  with  John,  he  did  not  em- 
bark with  the  fleet,  which  was  despatched  with  the 
two  queens  and  the  whole  of  his  troops,  but  designed 
if  possible,  by  a  hasty  and  secret  route,  to  reach 
England  before  them,  and  by  his  sudden  appearance 
there  to  overturn  the  usurpation  of  his  brother. 
None  of  his  own  knights  when  they  sailed  knew  the 
nature  of  his  plans.  He  only  bade  them  God  speed, 
and  desired  them  when  they  reached  England  to 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  255 

hasten  to  his  assistance,  if  he  should  then  have 
arrived  ;  if  not,  to  keep  themselves  in  readiness  and 
act  according  to  circumstances.  After  their  departure 
he  sent  for  Robert  de  Sablay,  grand-master  of  the 
Templars,  with  whom  he  was  now,  though  lately, 
reconciled,  and  thus  addressed  him : — "  Master,  I 
know  well  that  there  are  many  who  bear  me  but 
little  love,  and  if  I  were  to  cross  the  sea  in  my  own 
character,  it  might  be  that  my  enemies  would  take 
or  slay  me  at  the  first  port  I  should  reach.  There- 
fore I  pray  you  to  appoint  me  an  escort  of  the 
brethren  of  your  order,  in  company  with  whom,  when 
we  land  in  Europe,  I  may  travel  as  a  Templar  to 
my  own  kingdom*."  Robert  de  Sablay  approved 
highly  of  the  proposal,  and  selected  a  few  of  his 
trusty  knights,  with  whom,  and  the  following  ad- 
herents of  his  own,  Baldwin  de  Bethune,  William 
de  L'Estang,  Philip  the  secretary,  and  Anselm  the 
chaplain,  Richard  embarked  on  board  a  galley  and 
left  Palestine  for  ever. 

Nor  was  it  without  reason  that  he  took  the  fore- 
going precautions,  since  every  country  seemed  in 
arms  against  the  unfortunate  remnants  of  the  crusade. 
The  fleet,  which  had  sailed  a  few  days  before  the 
king's  departure,  was  dispersed  in  the  Mediterranean 
by  a  violent  storm  ;  some  of  the  ships  were  driven 
ashore  on  different  coasts,  and  the  crews  made  pri- 
soners and  forced  to  redeem  themselves  by  the 
sacrifice  of  all  they  possessed,  although  their  cap- 
tors were  nominally  Christians.  In  fact  the  whole 
of  Europe,  especially  the  south,  was  at  that  time  in 
a  state  of  great  barbarism  ;  and  the  petty  princes 
*  Bernard  le  Tresorier. 


256  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OF 

were  further  encouraged  in  their  aggressions  by  the 
knowledge,  that  no  insult  or  injury  offered  to  the 
followers  of  Richard  would  be  resented  either  by 
Philip  of  France  or  the  emperor  of  Germany, — as 
for  England,  they  were  too  far  distant  to  dread  any 
vengeance  from  her. 

The  vessel  of  Richard  was  driven  by  the  same 
tempest  into  a  harbour  of  Corfu,  from  which  island 
he  steered  northwards  up  the  gulf  of  Venice,  and 
landed  nearTrieste,  from  which  he  proposed  to  journey 
by  land  through  the  heart  of  Germany,  under  the 
disguise  of  a  merchant,  which  he  now  thought 
would  conceal  him  more  effectually  than  if  he 
assumed  the  military  garb  of  the  Templars.  It  is 
said  by  some  that  his  enemies  found  means,  ere  his 
departure  from  Acre,  to  convey  on  board  his  vessel 
a  person  charged  to  watch  his  movements,  and  to 
betray  him  as  soon  as  he  should  set  foot  in  an 
unfriendly  country.  They  further  state  that  this 
spy  no  sooner  landed  at  Trieste  than  he  apprised  the 
authorities  of  the  real  character  of  the  voyagers. 
This  account  appears  by  no  means  improbable  ;  for 
it  is  certain  that  no  sooner  had  the  small  company 
reached  the  town  of  Goritz  in  Carniola,  not  far 
from  the  port  where  they  landed,  than  the  lord  of 
the  territory,  by  name  Meinhard,  a  blood  relation  of 
the  marquis  of  Montserrat  and  also  a  kinsman  of  the 
emperor,  sent  to  demand  who  the  travellers  were, 
and  whither  they  were  bound.  In  answer  to  this 
inquiry,  they  replied  that  the  party  consisted  of  sir 
Baldwin  de  Bethune,  with  his  retinue,  and  a  mer- 
chant of  Damascus  called  Hugo,  which  was  the  name 
Richard  thought  proper  to  assume.  At  the  same 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  257 

time,  somewhat  imprudently,  the  pretended  trader 
sent  by  the  messenger  a  ring  of  considerable  value, 
as  a  present  to  Meinhard,  and  this  of  course  served 
to  confirm  any  suspicions  which  he  had  entertained 
as  to  the  real  character  and  quality  of  the  strangers. 
"  No,"  replied  the  German  Freyherr,  "  not  the  mer- 
chant Hugo,  but  king  Richard,  has  sent  me  this  ring. 
But  tell  him  that  although  I  am  ordered  to  detain 
all  pilgrims  from  the  Holy  Land  who  may  pass 
through  my  territory,  and  to  take  no  gift  from  any, 
yet  so  much  do  I  honour  the  liberality  and  worth  of 
the  man,  who  without  knowledge  of  me,  has  sent  so 
magnificent  a  token,  that  I  freely  return  him  his 
ring,  and  accord  him  permission  to  pass  at  liberty 
and  unmolested."  Richard  perceived  that  he  Was 
discovered,  but  knowing  not  how  far  he  might  de- 
pend upon  the  secrecy  of  the  German,  thought  it  best 
without  further  apology  or  explanation  to  take  his 
departure,  and  accordingly  on  the  same  night  the 
little  party  mounted  their  horses  and  left  the  terri- 
tories of  Meinhard.  It  does  not  appear  clearly 
whether  that  baron  concealed  a  treacherous  design 
under  the  appearance  of  disinterested  kindness,  and 
merely  wished  to  shift  the  responsibility  upon  other 
shoulders,  or  whether  he  was  oftended  at  the  want 
of  confidence  displayed  by  Richard.  This  at  least 
is  certain  that  he  despatched  a  messenger  to  his 
brother,  Frederick  of  Bretesow,  with  information 
of  the  motions  of  the  king,  and  advice  to  se- 
cure his  person  as  he  passed  through  his  territory, 
which  would  certainly  be  the  case  if  the  crusaders 
took  the  direct  road  to  the  north.  Accordingly 
Richard  and  his  men,  having  passed  the  river  Drave, 
s 


258  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

arrived  at  the  town  of  Freisach,  which  pertained  to 
Bretesow,  and  that  nobleman  being  made  acquainted 
with  their  arrival,  directed  a  follower  of  his  own, 
who  was  a  Norman  by  birth,  to  linger  about  the  inn, 
and  attempt,  by  drawing  the  travellers  into  conver- 
sation, to  discover  from  their  speech,  or  any  other 
token,  whether  Richard  was  really  of  their  number. 
The  better  to  ensure  this  man's  fidelity,  Bretesow 
promised  him  a  large  reward  in  case  the  king  of 
England  should  by  his  means  be  taken  prisoner;  but 
the  old  recollections  of  his  native  country,  and  the 
duty  which  he  owed  to  the  son  of  his  former  liege, 
though  for  twenty  years  he  had  not  set  foot  on  the 
Norman  soil,  outweighed  the  lust  of  such  ignoble 
gain  in  the  heart  of  the  ancient  retainer.  He  went 
directly  to  Richard,  and  besought  him  so  earnestly  to 
disclose  his  real  character,  that  the  king  yielded  to 
his  importunity,  and  made  the  important  disclosure. 
The  old  man  fell  in  tears  at  his  feet,  and  not  only 
entreated  him  to  consult  his  safety  by  instant  flight, 
but  provided  him  with  an  excellent  horse  in  place  of 
his  jaded  steed,  and  then  returning  to  Bretesow 
declared,  that  Meinhard  must  have  been  mistaken, 
since  he  had  seen  the  whole  of  the  travellers  and 
was  convinced  that  they  were  no  other  than  Sir 
Baldwin  de  Bethune  and  his  companions,  with  an 
actual  merchant  of  Damascus.  Meanwhile  Richard 
had  profited  by  the  hint,  but  not  having  time  to 
wait  the  return  of  his  companions  who  were  strolling 
in  the  town,  he  departed  along  with  William  De 
L'Estang,  and  a  boy  who  understood  the  German  lan- 
guage, in  the  full  persuasion  that  if  the  others  were 
examined,  they  would  speedily  be  set  at  liberty  when 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  259 

it  was  ascertained  that  the  king  was  not  amongst 
them. 

With  these  two  attendants  he  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing Vienna;  but  the  rumour  of  his  appearance  in  the 
country,  and  his  sudden  departure  from  Freisach,  had 
gone  before  him,  and  the  authorities  of  every  town 
in  the  Austrian  dominions  were  on  the  alert,  and 
watched  for  the  illustrious  pilgrim.  Richard  and 
De  L'Estang  took  up  their  abode  in  a  mean  lodging- 
house  of  the  suburbs,  where  they  hoped  to  escape 
observation.  They  would  have  proceeded  directly 
on  their  journey,  but  the  king  felt  himself  so  fatigued 
with  the  sea-voyage  that  the  repose  of  a  few  days 
was  absolutely  indispensable.  Neither  of  them  ven- 
tured to  go  abroad,  but  sent  the  page  every  day  to 
the  market  to  purchase  the  necessary  provisions, 
with  strict  injunctions  to  preserve  silence  as  to  the 
persons  or  quality  of  his  masters,  and  above  all 
things  not  to  discover  their  abode.  It  so  happened 
that  the  lad  one  day  paid  for  his  purchases  in  the 
Syrian  coin,  which  fact  when  reported  to  the  magis- 
trates was  deemed  so  suspicious  that  they  ordered 
the  officers,  when  he  next  appeared,  to  bring  the  boy 
before  them,  in  order  that  they  might  ascertain 
whence  he  came  and  in  whose  service  he  was.  This 
was  done,  but  farther  suspicions  were  excited  by 
the  discovery  of  the  king's  gloves,  which  the  page 
thoughtlessly  carried  with  him.  He  was  accordingly 
interrogated  by  the  magistrates,  but,  faithful  to  his 
trust,  steadily  refused  to  answer  any  question  which 
might  implicate  his  master.  But  in  those  days  there 
were  modes  of  forcing  evidence  from  a  reluctant 
witness  which  are  now  happily  in  disuse.  The  tor- 
s  2 


260  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

tures  of  the  rack  and  screw  were  employed  to  wring 
confession  from  the  boy — even  these  he  bore  with 
extraordinary  fortitude,  but  when  the  barbarians 
threatened  to  tear  his  tongue  from  the  roots  if  he 
still  persisted  in  silence,  human  nature  could  endure 
no  longer  and  he  told  them  all  that  he  knew.  In- 

o 

stant  information  of  this  important  discovery  was 
sent  to  the  duke  of  Austria,  then  in  Vienna;  and 
by  his  orders  the  house  where  Richard  and  his 
companion  lodged  was  surrounded  by  an  armed 
multitude,  who  summoned  the  pair  to  surrender. 
Although  escape  was  thus  cut  off,  the  rascal  crowd 
did  not  dare  to  enter  the  dwelling  or  lay  hands  upon 
the  person  of  the  king,  nor  would  Richard  yield  to 
them.  He  looked  forth  calmly  and  undismayed,  and 
desired  them,  if  they  came  by  order  of  Leopold  of 
Austria,  to  fetch  that  prince  in  person,  for  to  no  one 
inferior  in  rank  would  he  ever  surrender  his  sword. 
Leopold  accordingly  appeared  and  received  the  for- 
midable weapon  from  his  captive, — an  unknightly 
deed,  which  has  seared  the  former  laurels  of  the  duke, 
won  on  the  walls  of  Acre,  and  rendered  him  even 
among  his  own  countrymen  an  object  of  detestation 
and  scorn. 

And  here  we  must  leave  Richard  for  a  while,  to 
take  a  hasty  review  of  the  internal  state  of  England 
subsequent  to  his  departure  for  the  Holy  Land. 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  261 


CHAPTER  X. 

Covenjment  of  England  during  the  third  Crusade — Disputes  be- 
tween the  Chancellor  and  the  Bishop  of  Durham — Oppressive 
Conduct  of  the  former,  and  Intrigues  of  Prince  John^Assault 
upon  the  Archbishop  of  York — The  Chancellor  is  deposed — 
Interference  of  the  Pope  in  his  behalf — Return  of  Philip  from 
the  Crusade — He  prepares  to  invade  Normandy — The  Duke  of 
Austria  transfers  the  Custody  of  Richard  to  the  Emperor  Henry 
— General  Excitement  throughout  Europe  at  the  News  of  his 
Imprisonment — Measures  taken  by  the  English  Government — 
Accusation  and  Appearance  of  Richard  before  the  Germanic 
Diet — His  Ransom  fixed — John  enters  into  a  Treaty  with  Philip, 
who  invades  Normandy — The  Ransom  is  raised  in  England — 
Richard  arrives  at  Sandwich — Reduces  Nottingham  Castle — Is 
recrowned  at  Winchester — Receives  a  Visit  from  William  of 
Scotland  —  Crosses  to  Normandy,  and  pardons  his  Brother 
John. 

WHEN  a  monarch  chooses  to  depart  from  his  own 
dominions,  and  to  delegate  his  authority  to  others, 
he  makes  a  perilous  experiment,  wherein  the  chances 
of  failure  are  much  greater  than  those  of  success. 
For,  of  the  many  causes  which  combine  to  secure 
and  confirm  the  supremacy  of  a  king,  there  is  hardly 
one  applicable  to  a  viceroy,  who  must  be  taken  from 
a  rank  wherein  he  has  many  equals  and  rivals ;  these 
are  usually  offended  by  his  elevation,  and  will  not 
recognise  in  the  shadow  that  "  divinity  which  doth 
hedge"  the  person  of  a  sovereign.  However  just 
and  well-disposed  a  viceroy  may  be,  he  is  sure  to 
create  enemies ;  justice  itself,  though  a  great,  is  not 
always  an  ingratiating  quality;  and  sometimes  the 
sword  is  required  to  defend  the  decision  of  the 
balance.  Moreover,  although  rebellion  against  the 
delegate  be  equally  criminal  with  open  resistance  to 


262  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

the  fountain  of  his  authority,  men  cannot  be  brought 
to  view  it  in  the  same  light :  for,  however  untenable 
the  doctrine  of  divine  right  may  be,  it  has,  by  the 
tacit  consent  of  ages,  acquired  so  strong  a  root  in 
the  minds  of  many,  that  it  enters  unconsciously  into 
their  calculation,  and  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  principal 
safeguards  and  defences  of  a  throne  ;  whereas  the 
special  favours  of  heaven  are  not  supposed  to  be 
lavished  upon  a  viceroy,  opposition  to  him  is  con- 
sidered as  a  crime  of  less  magnitude,  and  sometimes, 
in  the  opinion  of  the  least  scrupulous,  even  resolves 
itself  into  a  question  of  expediency.  These  remarks, 
though  applicable  to  all  ages,  are  particularly  so  to 
the  time  which  now  occupies  our  attention,  as  will 
be  seen  from  the  aspect  of  affairs  in  England  and 
Normandy,  after  Richard  departed  on  his  pilgrimage 
to  the  Holy  Land. 

We  have  stated  in  a  former  chapter,  that  the 
government  of  England  was  entrusted  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  king  to  William  Longchamp,  chancellor 
and  bishop  of  Ely,  and  to  Hugh  de  Pusey,  bishop 
of  Durham.  These  were  men  of  very  opposite  cha- 
racters :  Longchamp  was  haughty  and  unscrupulous, 
with  talents  of  no  mean  order,  but  marred  by  an 
overweening  self-confidence  which  lost  him  many 
a  friend.  But  though  ambitious  in  so  far  as  regarded 
his  personal  advancement,  he  maintained  the  strictest 
fidelity  to  his  royal  master,  even  when  all  others 
had  forsaken  him,  and  when  to  profess  oneself  a 
partisan  of  Richard  was  to  incur  almost  certain 
penalties  of  banishment  and  ruin.  De  Pusey  was  a 
man  of  narrow  understanding  and  little  energy  of 
character;  far  fitter  to  preside  in  a  convent  than  to 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  263 

rule  hi  a  turbulent  country,  and  no  match  for  his 
acute  and  overbearing  colleague.  Indeed  he  owed, 
his  elevation  to  this  dignity  solely  to  his  enormous 
wealth,  by  means  of  which  he  was  enabled  to  ad- 
vance large  sums  towards  the  outfit  of  Richard,  when 
the  royal  coffers  were  exhausted;  and  that  king,  even 
when  granting  him  the  office  of  justiciary,  made  no 
scruple  of  expressing  his  mean  opinion  of  the  under- 
standing and  abilities  of  the  bishop. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  the  sovereign  power 
could  not  remain  equally  lodged  in  the  hands  of 
persons  whose  characters  were  so  opposite  ;  and  of 
course  the  bishop  of  Durham,  being  the  weaker,  went 
to  the  wall.  Longchamp,  probably  not  without 
the  tacit  consent  of  Richard,  usurped  the  whole  au- 
thority of  his  colleague,  and  compelled  him  to  remain 
contented  with  the  mere  semblance  of  power,  with- 
out the  least  real  weight  or  authority  in  the  state. 
Thus  freed  from  all  restraint,  Longchamp  proceeded 
to  such  measures  as  were  certainly  most  unconsti- 
tutional, and  which  would  hardly  have  been  borne  if 
carried  to  that  length  by  the  king  instead  of  his  officer. 
He  doubled  the  imposts  upon  the  laity,  increased 
the  exactions  which  Richard  had  wrung  from  the 
clergy,  and  showed  so  much  haughtiness  in  his  inter- 
course with  the  nobles  that  they  left  him  in  disgust, 
protesting  that  they  would  endure  such  arrogance 
from  no  potentate  on  earth,  much  less  from  a  base- 
born  and  mean  adventurer. 

Those  who  felt  themselves  thus  aggrieved,  found 
a  ready  coadjutor  in  the  person  of  prince  John,  who, 
regardless  of  all  the  benefits  somewhat  too  prodigally 
heaped  upon  him,  had,  ever  since  the  departure  of 


264  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES    OP 

Richard,  entertained  a  design  upon  the  crown,  and 
now  watched  with  delight  the  tyrannical  conduct  of 
Longchamp,  which  he  trusted  would  operate  against 
the  king,  and  so  afford  him  a  plausible  excuse  for 
realising  the  hopes  of  his  ambition.  Even  in  the 
event  of  Richard's  decease,  John  was  not  the  next 
in  succession,  for  his  elder  brother  Geoffry  had  left 
a  son,  the  unfortunate  Arthur,  who  was  considered 
and  proclaimed  the  heir-apparent  to  the  kingdom ; 
but  a  friendless  and  powerless  infant  was  not  likely 
to  prove  a  dangerous  antagonist,  and  the  strict  rule 
of  hereditary  succession  had  been  so  often  departed 
from  already,  that  this  obstacle  might  be  easily  sur- 
mounted, without  any  great  odium  or  opposition  on 
the  part  of  the  people.  But  Longchamp  was  de- 
termined to  maintain  the  rights  of  Arthur,  and  had 
even,  by  the  desire  of  Coeur-de-Lion,  entered  into  a 
treaty  with  William  of  Scotland,  whereby  that  king 
was  bound,  in  the  event  of  Richard's  premature 
decease,  to  support  his  nephew.  It  was  therefore 
necessary  to  displace  the  chancellor  from  his  situ- 
ation, and  that  difficulty  surmounted,  the  rest  ap- 
peared comparatively  easy. 

The  prince  went  warily  to  work,  and  drew  up  a 
memorial,  accusing  Longchamp  of  an  unjust  assump- 
tion of  authority  highly  prejudicial  to  the  regal 
interests,  of  oppression,  peculation,  and  acts  of  the 
grossest  tyranny.  This  document  he  transmitted  to 
Richard,  then  at  Messina,  by  a  sure  messenger,  and 
awaited  with  impatience  the  effect  of  his  insidious 
statement.  Richard  was  not  wholly  blinded  by  the 
artifice ;  but,  although  inclined  to  place  the  most 
entire  trust  in  the  loyalty  of  the  chancellor,  he  could 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  2G5 

not  shut  his  eyes  to  his  glaring  faults,  and,  therefore, 
thought  it  expedient  to  put  some  check  upon  him, 
lest  a  continued  course  of  exaction  should  operate 
directly  against  himself,  and  force  his  people  to  seek 
other  than  constitutional  redress.  He  therefore 
despatched  Walter,  archbishop  of  Rouen,  to  England, 
with  a  commission,  constituting  him  and  four  others 
a  council  of  advice  on  all  matters  of  moment,  and 
Longchamp  was  forbidden  to  act  except  under  their 
sanction  and  authority.  The  authenticity  of  this 
document  has  been  doubted,  and  some  writers  have 
not  hesitated  to  pronounce  it  a  direct  forgery;  but, 
genuine  or  not,  it  appears  that  the  archbishop,  inti- 
midated by  the  power  of  the  chancellor,  delayed  to 
produce  it,  and  did  not  assume  that  authority  and 
direction  which  was  thereby  placed  in  his  hands. 
Longchamp,  in  consequence,  continued  for  a  time 
unmolested  in  his  rule,  and  might  have  maintained 
his  place  in  spite  of  the  machinations  of  all  enemies, 
had  not  his  own  violence  contributed  to  hasten  his 
downfall.  Gerard  de  Chamville,  governor  of  Lincoln, 
having  by  some  means  or  other  incurred  his  displea- 
sure, the  chancellor  proceeded  without  more  ado  to 
depose  him  from  his  office,  and  appointed  a  favourite 
of  his  own,  William  d'Estoteville,  in  his  stead.  As 
Ghamville  did  not  yield  a  ready  acquiescence  to  this 
mandate,  the  chancellor  marched  with  the  royal  troops 
against  Lincoln,  and  was  proceeding  to  invest  the 
place,  when  John,  whose  influence  had  rapidly  aug- 
mented, called  round  him  some  of  the  nobles  and 
their  retainers,  laid  siege  to  the  royal  castles  of  Not- 
tingham and  Tickhill,  and  sent  a  peremptory  message 
to  Longchamp,  ordering  him  to  desist  from  his  j)ur- 


266  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

pose,  under  the  penalty  of  beholding  these  fortresses 
taken  from  his  hands.  This  decided  step  alarmed 
the  chancellor,  who  till  now  could  not  be  persuaded 
that  his  enemies  would  have  the  audacity  to  rise 
against  him,  still  less  that  John  would  become  the 
instigator  and  leader  of  the  insurrection.  Had  his 
power  been  equal  to  his  will,  he  would  have  per- 
sisted in  his  design,  and  put  down  the  rebellion,  for 
such  it  was,  by  force  of  arms ;  but  various  circum- 
stances convinced  him  of  the  impolicy  perhaps  the 
futility  of  such  conduct,  and  he  entered  into  a  nego- 
ciation  with  the  prince,  by  which  it  was  agreed,  that 
several  of  the  royal  castles  should  be  delivered  to 
the  custody  of  certain  nobles  for  the  king's  interest, 
and  that  in  the  event  of  the  monarch's  death,  these 
should  instantly  be  made  over  to  John.  Having 
carried  this  point,  which  was  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance inasmuch  as  his  right  to  the  succession  was 
thereby  tacitly  acknowledged,  John  thought  it 
prudent  to  pause  for  the  present,  nor  make  any  fur- 
ther inroads  upon  the  authority  of  the  chancellor, 
until  his  vehement  temper  should  place  him  in  a 
new  dilemma.  This  shortly  afterwards  came  to  pass, 
and  was  in  its  effects  still  more  decisive  than  the  other. 
We  have  already  stated  that  Geoffry,  the  natural 
brother  of  the  king,  had  been  chosen  to  the  arch- 
bishopric of  York  ;  but  this  appointment  was  in  a 
manner  rendered  of  no  effect  by  Richard,  who 
forced  the  prelate  to  take  an  oath  that  he  would  not 
set  foot  in  England  until  three  entire  years  subse- 
quent to  his  departure  had  elapsed,  and  at  the  same 
time  orders  were  issued  forbidding,  in  the  most 

O  ' 

positive  manner,  any  bishop  in  the  British  dominions 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  267 

to  assist  at  his  consecration.  It  is  very  probable 
that  John  was  at  the  bottom  of  this  intrigue,  for 
Geoffry  had  on  no  previous  occasion  manifested  a 
turbulent  spirit,  and  Richard  was  not  apt  to  take 
such  precautions  without  some  obvious  reason. 
Geoffry,  as  was  natural,  felt  this  restriction  a  sore 
grievance,  and  as  he  entertained  doubts  whether, 
being  a  prelate,  he  was  justified  in  adhering  to  a 
promise  which  removed  him  from  the  sphere  of  his 
utility,  he  laid  his  case  before  pope  Celestine  III., 
who  judged  proper  to  absolve  him  of  his  vow,  and, 
moreover,  issued  the  mandate  for  his  consecration, 
which  ceremony  was  performed  by  the  archbishop  of 
Tours.  It  was  now  confidently  rumoured  that 
Geoffry  was  about  to  cross  over  into  England,  where- 
upon the  chancellor,  whose  instructions  were  posi- 
tive, sent  to  warn  him,  that  if  he  should  venture 
upon  such  a  step  in  manifest  violation  of  his  oath, 
he  would  instantly  be  apprehended.  Geoffry,  how- 
ever, was  not  to  be  deterred  by  threats,  but  landed 
at  Dover,  where  he  managed  to  escape  the  vigilance 
of  the  emissaries  of  Longchamp,  who  were  upon  the 
watch,  and  took  refuge  in  the  church  of  St.  Martin, 
where  he  proceeded  to  celebrate  divine  service. 
Whilst  he  was  standing  at  the  altar  in  full  canon- 
icals, the .  servants  of  the  chancellor  beset  the 
church,  and,  bursting  open  the  doors,  seized  upon 
the  archbishop  and  dragged  him  to  the  castle,  in 
spite  of  the  remonstrances  and  execrations  of  the 
people,  who  reverenced  Geoffry  for  his  character, 
and  saw  with  horror  the  sacrilege  and  the  shameful 
insult  thus  offered  to  the  person  of  one  of  the  highest 
dignitaries  of  the  church.  Their  remonstrances, 


268  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

however,  were  unavailing,  and  Geoffry  was  deli- 
vered over  to  the  custody  of  Matthew  de  Clare, 
constable  of  Dover  castle.  The  news  of  this  out- 
rage spread  like  wildfire  through  the  country,  and 
created  a  very  general  disgust  at  the  violent  conduct 
of  the  chancellor.  John,  who  saw  his  opportxmity, 
demanded  of  Longchamp  if  this  arrest  was  made  by 
his  order,  and  on  receiving  an  affirmative  answer, 
peremptorily  insisted  that  his  brother  should  be 
restored  to  liberty.  Longchamp  hesitated,  but  when 
the  bishop  of  London  became  security  that  Geoffry 
would  obey  the  decision  of  the  assembly  of  barons 
and  prelates,  he  yielded  to  the  demand,  and  released 
his  prisoner ;  whereby  he  incurred  the  odium  of  having 
behaved  with  most  unnecessary  harshness,  since  the 
same  terms  might  have  been  made  with  Geoffry 
without  subjecting  him  to  the  indignity  of  a  public 
arrest.  The  archbishop  instantly  repaired  to  Lon- 
don, where  he  was  received  by  John  with  the  sem- 
blance of  remarkable  affection,  and  cordially  greeted 
by  the  barons,  who,  with  one  consent,  denounced 
the  late  conduct  of  Longchamp  as  injurious  and 
intolerable.  The  prince  expressed  himself  so  much 
offended,  that  he  proposed  the  chancellor  should 
instantly  be  summoned  to  answer  in  person  for  the 
outrage,  and  for  his  unjust  conduct  tpwards  the 
bishop  of  Durham.  Longchamp,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  refused  to  place  himself  in  so  degrading  a 
position,  or  appear  as  a  criminal  at  the  bar  of  those 
who  were,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  his  subjects 
for  the  time.  On  this  a  great  assembly  was  ap- 
pointed at  Reading,  in  which  the  prince  presided  in 
person,  supported  by  the  archbishop  of  Rouen  and 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  269 

the  principal  nobility  and  prelates  of  the  kingdom. 
As  the  chancellor  did  not  appear,  it  was  decided  that 
another  general  assembly  should  be  held  at  London, 
and  that  the  chief  magistrates  of  that  city  should  be 
consulted  with  regard  to  the  measures  to  be  adopted 
towards  the  chancellor,  who  had  shown  himself  so 
obnoxious  to  the  welfare  of  the  community,  and  so 
troublesome  to  the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  realm. 
While  this  league  was  forming,  Longchamp  re- 
mained quietly  at  Windsor  Castle,  in  expectation 
that  the  storm  would  soon  blow  over,  and  that  the 
majority  of  the  nobles  would,  upon  reflection,  be 
indisposed  to  second  the  ambitious  projects  of  John. 
Like  most  tyrannical  men,  lie  was  not  at  all  aware 
of  the  extent  of  the  dislike  and  hatred  which  his 
conduct  had  excited,  but  reckoned  confidently  upon 
the  support  of  many  who  were  in  truth  amongst  his 
bitterest  enemies,  for  subserviency  is  not  always  to 
be  taken  as  a  pledge  of  attachment,  as  many  an  un- 
fortunate prince  has  found  to  his  cost  and  sorrow. 
However,  the  results  of  the  deliberations  at  Reading 
were  so  ominous  and  alarming,  that  Longchamp 
could  no  longer  flatter  himself  in  the  belief  that  the 
whole  was  an  abortive  project  of  John,  but  set  out 
instantly  to  the  capital,  in  hopes  of  anticipating  the 
confederates.  It  had  often  been  made  an  article  of 
complaint  againt  the  chancellor,  that  he  never  stirred 
from  home  without  the  attendance  of  a  royal  escort, 
so  that  he  was  a  welcome  guest  neither  at  hall  or 
abbey,  where  the  visit  of  one  night  often  consumed 
four  months  of  the  owner's  revenue.  However  ob- 
noxious this  assumption  of  state  might  have  been  to 
others,  it  was  upon  this  occasion  of  essential  service 


270  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

to  himself,  for  John,  who  was  about  as  unscrupulous 
a  plotter  as  the  world  ever  saw,  had  despatched  a 
body  of  soldiers  to  waylay  the  chancellor  on  the 
road,  and  either  to  bring  him  a  prisoner  to  London, 
or  deal  with  him  in  such  a  manner  as  would  ensure 
his  eternal  silence.  These,  under  the  command  of 
one  Roger  de  Planes,  fell  upon  the  chancellor,  and 
a  desperate  skirmish  ensued,  in  which  the  leader  of 
the  prince's  troops  was  slain ;  but  Longchamp  with 
his  servants  were  compelled  to  save  themselves  by  a 
speedy  flight.  This  brutal  attack  convinced  the 
chancellor  that  the  city  of  London  was  no  longer  a 
safe  residence ;  accordingly  he  took  refuge  in  the 
Tower,  which  he  had  previously  refortified,  and 
where  he  thought  himself  secure  from  the  armed 
ruffians  of  John. 

Although  that  prince,  when  it  suited  his  ends,  did 
not  hesitate  to  have  recourse  to  the  most  unworthy 
violence,  he  yet  was  politician  enough  to  affect  mo- 
deration, when  moderation  was  likely  to  impress  the 
commons  with  a  favourable  idea  of  his  character. 
He  therefore  cautiously  abstained  from  violent  mea- 
sures, but  having  summoned  the  assembly,  at  which 
the  chief  citizens  of  London  were  present,  he  recapi- 
tulated the  charges  against  the  chancellor,  and  craved 
a  hearing  for  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  who  then  for 
the  first  time  produced  the  commission,  real  or  pre- 
tended, which  he  had  brought  from  Sicily,  appointing 
himself  and  four  others  joint  guardians  with  Long- 
champ  in  the  administration  of  the  state.  The  arch- 
bishop now  asserted  that  this  document,  although 
exhibited,  had  been  altogether  rejected,  and  the  in- 
tention of  the  king  frustrated  by  the  presumption  of 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.          .  271 

his  haughty  viceroy.  This  evidence  appeared  so 
conclusive  to  the  assembly  that  they  instantly  pro- 
ceeded to  depose  the  chancellor  from  his  rule,  and 
substituted  the  archbishop  of  Rouen  in  his  stead,  to 
whom  all  the  nobles  and  prelates  swore  fidelity.  At 
the  same  time  the  citizens  of  London  renewed  their 
oath  of  fealty  to  Richard  and  his  heir,  and  bound 
themselves,  in  case  the  king  should  die  without  issue, 
to  receive  his  brother  John  as  their  lawful  sovereign. 
Even  Longchamp  was  forced  to  succumb,  and  pur- 
chased his  individual  safety  by  the  relinquishment 
of  his  offices,  and  the  delivery  of  the  greater  part  of 
the  royal  castles.  Some  of  his  enemies  were  scarcely 
disposed  to  remain  content  with  this  victory  and 
•would  have  wreaked  their  vengeance  upon  his  person, 
had  not  John  more  prudently  interfered  and  suffered 
the  ex-chancellor  to  retire  unmolested  into  Nor- 
mandy. A  remarkable  letter  from  Hugh  bishop  of 
Coventry,  a  staunch  partisan  of  John,  narrating  the 
circumstances  of  Longchamp's  retreat,  is  still  extant, 
and  is  wholly  without  example  in  its  tone  of  coarse 
and  vehement  abuse.  It  produced  a  reply  from 
Peter  de  Blois  archdeacon  of  Bath,  wherein  he  de- 
fends the  conduct,  and  pronounces  a  warm  eulogium 
upon  the  character  of  his  banished  patron,  and  with 
great  vehemence  rebukes  Hugh  of  Coventry  for 
this  malicious  and  cowardly  attack.  Yet  in  spite  of 
the  powerful  advocacy,  Longchamp  continued  to 
suffer  not  only  the  persecution  of  the  civil,  but  the 
censure  of  the  ecclesiastical  power,  for  by  order  of 
his  successor,  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  he  was  held 
through  Normandy  as  ah  excommunicated  man,  and 
in  every  place  through  which  he  passed,  divine 


272  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

service  was  suspended  for  the  time,  as  if  his  mere 
presence  were  enough  to  taint  the  sanctity  of  that 
holy  rite. 

In  addition  to  the  high  office  of  chancellor,  Long- 
champ  was  also  papal  legate,  but  this  latter  dignity 
had  fallen  by  the  death  of  the  pontiff  Clement  VII., 
who  bestowed  it,  and  was  not  yet  ratified  by  his  suc- 
cess'or.  The  new  pope  Celestine  III.  was  a  man  of 
considerable  ability,  who  interested  himself  much  in 
the  success  of  the  Latin  arms  in  Palestine,  and  was 
therefore  disposed  to  exert  his  influence  in  behalf  of 
Kichard,  who  at  the  moment  was  fighting  the  battles 
of  Christendom  against  the  unbeliever.  To  him, 
therefore,  Longchamp  resolved  to  appeal  against  the 
violence  of  John,  and  made  such  a  representation  of 
the  state  of  affairs  in  England,  and  the  danger  to 
•which  the  cause  of  the  king  was  exposed,  that  Celes- 
tine was  wrought  upon  to  take  a  warm  interest  in 
the  matter,  and  issued  a  bull  renewing  the  legatine 
power  in  favour  of  Longchamp,  and  giving  him  full 
authority  to  subject  all  those  who  had  plotted  and 
achieved  his  ejection,  to  the  heaviest  censures  of  the 
church.  Armed  with  these  powers,  the  chancellor 
despatched  letters  to  Hugh,  bishop  of  Lincoln, 
desiring  him  instantly  to  put  the  prohibition  of  the 
pope  in  force  Against  all  who  had  shown  themselves 
most  active  in  the  late  disturbances,  and  also  an- 
nounced his  speedy  intention  of  returning  to  England; 
but  the  tide  of  popular  opinion  was  yet  too  strong 
to  admit  of  his  carrying  this  resolution  into  effect, 
and  the  sentences  of  excommunication  do  not  seem  to 
have  been  formally  pronounced. 

About  the  same  time  Philip  of  France  returned 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  273 

from  the  crusade,  and  thought  it  necessary  for  his 
own  justification  to  appear  before  the  pope,  and 
explain  the  reason  why  he  had  so  speedily  relin- 
quished the  undertaking.  This  he  partly  attributed 
to  the  precarious  state  of  his  health,  but  more  to  the 
arrogance  of  Richard,  who,  as  he  said,  had  driven 
him  from  the  Holy  Land,  and  disgusted  the  whole 
of  the  crusaders  by  his  violence  and  reckless  conduct. 
These  assertions,  however,  did  not  impose  upon 
Celestine,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  true 
character  of  Philip ;  but  as  remonstrances  were 
obviously  useless,  he  refrained  from  expressing  any 
opinion  upon  the  matter,  and  entertained  the  king  for 
eight  days  with  great  courtesy  and  honour.  Shortly 
afterwards,  Philip  had  a  personal  conference  with 
the  emperor  Henry,  and,  as  it  is  reported,  entreated 
him  to  seize  upon  the  person  of  Coeur-de-Lion, 
should  that  monarch,  on  his  return,  pass  through  any 
part  of  the  imperial  dominions.  Such  a  request 
covers  with  eternal  infamy  him  who  made  it,  and 
also,  though  in  a  less  degree,  the  man  who  was 
weak  and  base  enough  to  listen  to  such  unworthy 
counsel.  After  this  Philip  returned  to  his  own 
country,  and  commenced  a  series  of  plots  with  the 
view  of  freeing  himself  of  his  engagements,  and  of 
finding  a  pretext  to  carry  war  into  the  territories  of 
his  absent  neighbour. 

Meanwhile  John  began  to  suspect  that  the  arch- 
bishop of  Rouen  and  several  others  who  had  joined 
him,  heart  and  hand,  in  effecting  the  expulsion  of 
Longchamp,  were  not  likely  to  assist  him  in  the 
prosecution  of  his  ulterior  plans  for  setting  aside 
Richard  and  usurping  the  crown.  So  long  as  the 
T 


274  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

prince  professed  to  be  actuated  by  a  desire  for  the 
public  good,  those  nobles  and  prelates  followed  with 
alacrity  in  his  train.  They  were  ready  enough  to 
join  in  any  scheme  which  might  unseat  the  chan- 
cellor, but  rebellion  against  their  monarch  was  a 
crime  which  they  never  contemplated;  for  with  all 
his  faults  they  were  fondly  attached  to  Richard, 
and  would  have  preferred  him,  had  these  been  ten 
times  greater  than  they  were,  to  the  fickle  and  per- 
fidious John.  The  queen-mother,  Eleanor,  began  to 
suspect  the  designs  of  her  youngest  son,  and  being 
an  active  and  sagacious  woman  she  espoused  the 
party  of  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  and  caused  the 
prelate  of  York  and  the  other  magnates  of  the 
realm  to  take  anew  the  oath  of  fealty  to  Richard  and 
his  declared  successor,  against  all  men  whomsoever. 
John  perceiving  that  those  measures  were  levelled 
against  himself,  and  almost  without  hope  of  gain- 
ing over  his  former  confederates  to  his  purpose, 
bethought  him  of  the  absent  chancellor,  who,  having 
many  injuries  to  revenge,  might,  as  he  conceived,  be 
persuaded,  first  to  avail  himself  of  his  assistance,  and 
afterwards  to  repay  him  in  kind.  With  this  view 
he  invited  Longchamp  to  England,  but  the  confede- 
rated government  were  still  strongly  opposed  to  his 
return,  so  that  after  remaining  a  few  days  at  Dover, 
the  disappointed  minister  was  fain  to  retrace  his 
steps,  and  await  in  Normandy  the  return  of  his 
ancient  master.  In  the  mean  time  the  king  of 
France,  by  way  of  breaking  ground,  sent  to  the 
seneschal  of  Normandy  demanding  the  restitution  of 
his  sister  Adelais  and  the  delivery  of  Gisors  and  its 
dependencies,  as  stipulated  by  the  treaty  of  Messina. 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  275 

The  stout-hearted  Norman  replied  that  he  had  re- 
ceived no  orders  to  that  effect  from  his  king,  and 
that  he  would  cede  nothing  of  his  charge  without  the 
positive  royal  commands.  Philip  seized  upon  this 
refusal  as  a  ground  for  commencing  the  war,  and 
levied  a  great  army  for  the  purpose  of  invading  Nor- 
mandy ;  but  his  nobles  refused  to  countenance  him 
in  this  open  violation  of  his  oath,  and  Celestine  when 
he  heard  of  his  preparations,  fulminated  forth  his 
anathema  against  all  who  should  bear  arms  against 
the  absent  monarch ;  so  that  Philip,  baffled  of  his 
purpose,  forbore  his  design  until  the  return  or 
capture  of  Richard  should  afford  him  an  opportunity 
of  again  commencing  hostilities.  Nor  was  he  long 
without  such  an  excuse,  for  immediately  afterwards 
he  received  the  welcome  tidings  that  Richard  had 
been  seized  at  Vienna  by  the  vindictive  duke  of 
Austria,  and  was  now  a  prisoner  without  the  means 
or  prospect  of  release. 

During  the  first  few  weeks  of  his  captivity,  Richard 
was  treated  by  the  duke  with  considerable  courtesy, 
for  Leopold  was  probably  ashamed  to  heap  per- 
sonal indignity  upon  the  prince  whom  he  had  already 
robbed  of  his  freedom.  But  the  emperor  Henry, 
whose  interest  was  closely  leagued  with  that  of 
France,  did  not  think  it  prudent  that  the  royal  cap- 
tive should  be  permitted  to  remain  in  the  custody  of 
his  vassal,  and  for  the  sum  of  sixty  thousand  pounds 
obtained  possession  of  his  person.  For  greater  secu- 
rity he  confined  him  in  the  strong  but  sequestered 
castle  of  Durenstein  upon  the  Danube,  under  such 
circumstances  of  concealment,  that  few  even  of  his 
own  subjects  knew  the  exact  spot  where  Richard  was 
T2 


276  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF 

immured;  nor  would  the  secret  have  been  discovered, 
had  not  a  letter  from  the  emperor  to  Philip  of  France 
fallen  by  some  means  or  other  into  the  hands  of 
Longchamp,  and  made  that  prelate  aware  of  the 
exact  situation  of  his  master.  Richard  was  not 
entirely  alone,  for,  in  order  to  stifle  their  report,  the 
companions  of  his  voyage  had  also  been  seized,  and 
were  permitted  to  share  his  bondage  during  the  day. 
At  night,  however,  they  were  guarded  in  separate 
apartments,  for  the  terror  of  Richard's  personal 
strength  and  audacity  was  such,  that  his  gaolers  were 
in  constant  alarm  of  some  desperate  attempt  to 
escape,  in  spite  of  the  solid  walls  and  armed  soldiers 
who  surrounded  the  impregnable  fortress.  Doubt- 
less, had  there  been  the  slightest  prospect  of  success, 
Richard  would  have  made  the  trial,  but  his  situation 
was  so  utterly  hopeless,  that  he  resigned  himself 
cheerfully  to  his  lot.  Fortunately  he  possessed 
within  himself  mental  resources,  which  prevented 
him  from  falling  into  that  state  of  listlessness  so 
common  among  prisoners,  and  so  pernicious  in  its 
effects ;  and  Schloss  Durenstein  will  ever  be  memo- 
rable in  the  history  of  poetry,  as  the  spot  where  our 
English  monarch  found  leisure  to  turn  to  account 
the  lessons  he  had  formerly  received  from  Blondel  de 
Nesle  and  others  of  his  favourite  Troubadours,  and 
proved  himself  as  expert  an  adept  in  "the  gaye  science" 
as  many  of  the  renowned  minstrels  whose  lays  were 
sung  in  every  court  of  Europe  *.  Even  with  the 
soldiers  whom  the  emperor  had  placed- around  his 
person  he  became  a  favourite,  entering  with  zest 
into  their  rude  sports,  and  was  never  so  happy  as 
*  See  note  E. 


RICSARD  THE   FIRST.  277 

when  he  could  persuade  any  of  the  tall  Germans  to 
measure  their  physical  strength  against  his  own. 

It  was  impossible,  notwithstanding  the  barbarous 
laxity  of  the  time,  that  so  flagrant  an  act  of  injus- 
tice as  the  detention  of  Richard  could  take  place  in  - 
the  heart  of  Europe,  without  exciting  very  general 
indignation.  All  the  princes  of  influence,  even  those 
who  had  no  interest  in  the  matter,  were  loud  in  their 
expressions  of  anger  against  the  emperor  and  the 
duke.  Such  conduct,  they  said,  was  most  unworthy 
of  noblemen  and  knights,  subversive  of  the  honour 
of  nations,  and  contrary  to  the  laws  of  chivalry. 
Frederick  Barbarossa  would  never  have  lent  his 
countenance  to  such  a  proceeding — and  unfavourable 
comparisons  were  drawn  between  that  distinguished 
warrior  and  the  present  occupant  of  the  throne.  In 
England  the  news  was  received  with  sorrow,  and  at 
first  with  threats  of  vengeance.  But  as  it  was  no 
easy  matter  to  march  a  British  army  into  the  heart  of 
Germany,  especially  when  the  forces  of  France  were 
prepared  to  fall  upon  the  rear,  all  such  extravagant 
ideas  were  abandoned,  and  the  nobles  began  to  take 
the  most  prudent  as  well  as  effectual  steps  to  recover 
the  freedom  of  their  monarch.  At  the  instigation  of 
Eleanor  and  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  pope  Celestine 
denounced  all  who  were  concerned  in  the  capture 
or  detention  of  Richard,  and  threatened  to  interdict 
the  whole  territories  of  the  emperor.  Two  abbots 
were  next  despatched  from  England  with  orders  to 
travel  throughout  Germany,  and  discover,  if  pos- 
sible, the  spot  where  the  king  was  lodged;  for  John, 
who  saw  that  his  brother's  imprisonment  was  not 
likely  to  tend  to  his  own  advantage,  had  set  a 


278  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

report  in  circulation  to  the  effect  that  Richard  was 
actually  dead. 

This  feeling  so  universally  expressed  made  the  em- 
peror somewhat  ashamed  of  his  sorry  conduct,  and 
compelled  him  to  adopt  more  open  and  manly  pro- 
ceedings. He  summoned  Richard  to  appear  before  an 
assembly  of  the  states  at  Hagenau  to  answer  certain 
charges,  and  ordered  him  to  be  conveyed  to  that 
city  under  a  strong  military  escort.  By  a  curious 
coincidence  it  happened  that  the  abbots,  of  whose 
mission  we  have  just  spoken,  after  having  traversed 
the  greater  part  of  Germany  in  vain,  met  Richard  at 
the  confines  of  Bavaria.  The  greeting,  as  may  well 
be  supposed,  was  cordial  in  the  extreme,  and  the 
churchmen,  joining  themselves  to  his  company,  com- 
municated all  the  late  events  in  England,  of  which 
the  king  was  wholly  ignorant.  Having  assured 
himself  of  the  fidelity  of  his  subjects,  and  the  con- 
tinued friendship  of  William  of  Scotland,  whom  he 
termed  his  most  worthy  ally,  Richard  made  inquiries 
regarding  the  conduct  of  his  brother  John,  and  ap- 
peared neither  shocked  nor  surprised  at  the  narrative 
of  his  manifold  treasons.  "  John,"  said  he,  "  is  not 
the  man  to  win  a  kingdom  by  force  of  arms,  if  he 
meets  with  the  slightest  resistance." 

The  assembly  met,  as  appointed,  and  the  following 
charges  were  preferred  against  Richard,  and  to  these 
he  was  directed  severally  to  reply  : — 

1st.  That  when  in  Sicily  he  had  aided  and  abetted 
the  pretensions  of  Tancred  in  that  island  to  the  de- 
triment of  the  emperor,  whose  inheritance  it  became 
after  the  death  of  William  the  Good;  and  that  he  had 
also  entered  into  a  league  with  the  usurper  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  interests  of  the  realm. 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  279 

2nd.  That,  without  any  just  cause  or  declaration 
of  war,  he  had  taken  possession  of  the  island  of 
Cyprus,  dethroned  and  imprisoned  the  emperor,  and 
carried  off  his  daughter,  who  was  niece  of  the 
duchess  of  Austria, 

3rd.  He  was  required  to  clear  himself  of  all  par- 
ticipation or  share  in  the  murder  of  Conrad,  mar- 
quis of  Montserrat,  who  was  the  emperor's  near 
relation. 

4th.  He  was  accused  of  a  treasonable  conspiracy 
against  his  feudal  lord,  the  king  of  France,  and  also 
of  having  broken,  on  various  occasions,  the  mutual 
treaty  made  before  their  departure  to  Palestine. 

5th.  That  he  had  plucked  down  the  standard  of 
Austria  from  the  walls  of  Acre,  and  thereby  insulted 
the  national  colours.  —  Other  charges  of  a  similar 
nature  were  preferred ;  but  these  are  sufficient  to 
show  how  eagerly  the  emperor  sought  for  a  pretext 
to  justify  his  conduct ;  nor  was  it  explained  in  what 
manner  an  assembly  of  the  German  states  was  com- 
petent to  try  an  independent  sovereign  for  alleged 
offences  in  which  it  could  not  exhibit  the  shadow  of 
a  national  interest.  Still  Richard  was  called  upon 
to  answer  the  various  articles  of  indictment,  and  this 
he  did  in  so  clear  and  convincing  a  manner,  with 
such  eloquence  and  judgment,  that  the  assembled 
princes  were  struck  with  admiration,  and  express- 
ed their  conviction  of  his  perfect  innocence  of  the 
death  of  Conrad,  and  the  more  serious  portion  of 
the  charge.  Even  Henry  was  so  much  moved  by  the 
noble  demeanour  of  Richard,  that  he  rose  from  his 
seat  and  embraced  him,  thereby  adding  his  testi- 
mony to  the  opinion  of  others.  After  this,  say 


280  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

the  historians,  Richard  was  treated  with  much  con- 
sideration and  respect. — It  is  difficult  to  imagine 
why  he  was  not  set  free. 

If  the  generosity  of  the  emperor  had  been  equal 
to  his  avarice,  this  assembly  could  have  had  only 
one  result, — the  instant  liberation  of  Richard.  Had 
this  honourable  course  been  pursued,  posterity  would 
have  forgotten  all  the  previous  aggravating  circum- 
stances, and  would  have  regarded  the  German 
emperor  as  a  just  and  upright  man.  Unfortunately 
for  his  memory,  he  would  not  relinquish  the  pos- 
session of  his  captive,  even  although  his  innocence 
was  established,  but  detained  him  as  a  prisoner  of  war; 
most  unjustifiably, -surely,  considering  the  circum- 
stances under  which  Richard  had  entered  Germany, 
and  the  part  which  Frederick  Barbarossa  and  his 
son  had  taken  in  the  advancement  of  the  crusade. 
By  purchasing  from  the  duke  of  Austria  the  per- 
son of  the  royal  prisoner,  Henry  had  certainly 
not  bought  his  quarrel  also.  Leopold  might  have 
detained  the  king  under  the  pretext  of  reprisal  for 
the  insult  offered  to  him  at  the  siege  of  Acre,  though 
even  such  revenge  would  have  been  scandalous;  but 
that  excuse  was  not  transferred  to  Henry,  and, 
therefore,  he  must  always  stand  in  the  light  of  an 
imperial  pedlar,  a  trafficker  with  misfortune,  with- 
out true  nobility  of  soul,  and  without  even  such  an 
excuse  as  the  vague  and  indefinite  laws  of  chivalry 
could  afford.  The  first  advantage  which  he  took  was 
to  force  Richard  to  resign  the  kingdom  of  England 
into  his  hands  as  sovereign  lord,  and  then  reinstated 
him  in  that  dignity,  as  vassal,  but  under  the  burden  of 
a  yearly  payment  of  five  thousand  pounds;  in  return 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  281 

for  which  complaisance,  Richard  was  honoured  with 
the  obsolete  title  of  king  of  Provence,  a  gift  of  no 
value,  except  that  it  conferred  upon  its  possessor  the 
right  of  voting  at  the  Germanic  diet,  which  privi- 
lege Richard,  after  the  death  of  Henry,  was  sum- 
moned to  exercise,  but  wisely  refused.  This  partial 
subjection  did  not  content  the  emperor,  who,  be- 
sides his  own  expectations,  had  yet  to  be  repaid  the 
large  sura  given  to  the  duke  of  Austria  for  the  ces- 
sion of  his  prisoner;  and  some  time  elapsed  before 
the  definite  amount  of  the  ransom  could  be  deter- 
mined. In  the  meantime  Richard  was  gratified  by 
the  appearance  of  his  old  chancellor  and  devoted 
friend  Longchamp,  who  was  no  sooner  aware  of  the 
assembly,  than  he  set  out  to  join  his  master;  and  not 
less  by  the  advent  of  Hubert,  the  warlike  bishop  of 
Salisbury,  who,  when  at  Messina  on  his  return  from 
the  Holy  Land,  had  learned  the  particulars  of 
Richard's  captivity,  and,  as  faithful  in  misfortune  as 
he  had  shown  himself  when  the  brighter  star  was 
in  the  ascendant,  hastened  to  offer  his  services  to  the 
oppressed  and  injured  monarch.  Such  demonstra- 
tions of  attachment  could  not  fail  to  be  most  grati- 
fying to  Richard,  who  requested  his  old  servant  to 
remain  near  his  person,  and  despatched  the  bishop 
of  Salisbury  to  England,  there  to  negociate  the 
sum  fixed  for  his  ransom.  This  amounted  to  a 
hundred  and  forty  thousand  marks  of  silver,  accord- 
ing to  the  standard  of  Cologne — an  immense  sum 
at  that  period ;  and  Richard  also  engaged  to  set 
Isaac,  the  late  emperor  of  Cyprus,  at  liberty,  and  to 
restore  his  daughter  to  the  custody  of  her  uncle  the 
duke  of  Austria.  These  conditions  of  course  could 


282  THE  LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

not  be  fulfilled  at  the  moment,  so  that  John,  still 
indulging  in  the  vain  hope  of  sovereignty,  took 
advantage  of  the  delay. 

Up  to  this  time  his  intercourse  with  Philip  had 
been  rather  concealed  than  avowed,  for  even  such  of 
the  English  nobles  as  favoured  the  prince's  party 
were  exceedingly  averse  to  an  alliance  with  the 
French  king,  and  would  not  countenance  any  proce- 
dure which  might  lead  to  an  invasion  of  the  Norman 
or  British  territories.  But  John  now  saw,  that  if 
he  hoped  to  prevail,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to 
fling  aside  the  mask,  and  make  common  cause 
with  Philip,  since  all  his  arts  and  blandishments  had 
failed  to  shake  the  allegiance  of  the  great  body  of 
the  people,  and  many  of  those  whom  he  had  confi- 
dently looked  to  for  support  were  now  among  the 
most  zealous  for  procuring  the  freedom  of  his  brother. 
Accordingly  he  resolved  to  leave  England,  and  to 
hold  a  personal  conference  with  Philip,  and  for  this 
purpose  passed  over  into  Normandy,  where  he  found 
the  seneschal  and  others  busily  engaged  in  raising 
their  proportion  of  the  sum  required  for  Richard's 
ransom.  The  Normans  believing  that  John  was 
equally  interested  with  themselves  in  this  labour  of 
love,  craved  him  to  attend  a  great  meeting  summoned 
at  Alen9on,  and  to  afford  them  his  assistance  and 
advice.  To  this  John  replied  that  if  the  Normans 
would  acknowledge  him  as  their  liege  lord,  and  take 
an  oath  of  fidelity,  he  would  assist  them  in  all  things, 
and  be  their  defender  against  the  king  of  France,  but 
on  no  other  condition.  The  astonished  and  indig- 
nant Normans  rejected  his  proposal  with  contempt, 
and  John  proceeded  to  the  court  of  Philip.  As 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  283 

robbers  seldom  quarrel  with  regard  to  a  prospective 
division  of  their  booty  before  it  has  fallen  into  their 
hands,  whatever  they  may  do  afterwards,  the  bargain 
between  Philip  and  John  was  speedily  concluded. 
The  French  king  promised  to  render  every  assist- 
ance in  reducing  the  Norman  provinces  and  England 
for  behoof  of  his  confederate ;  and  John  in  return 
engaged  to  cede  Gisors  and  the  Vexin  in  Normandy 
to  France  for  ever,  and  proposed  to  rivet  the  union 
by  a  marriage  with  Adelais,  to  which  there  was  no 
obstacle  except  the  existence  of  his  present  wife. 

These  matters  being  finally  arranged,  John  re- 
turned to  England  with  a  large  body  of  foreign 
troops,  took  the  castles  of  Wallingford  and  Windsor, 
and  sent  an  imperious  message  to  the  archbishop  of 
Rouen  and  the  justiciaries  of  the  realm,  repeating 
the  false  story  of  Richard's  decease,  and  commanding 
their  allegiance  to  himself.  This  message  was  of 
course  treated  with  the  contempt  it  deserved,  and 
the  treason  of  John  being  now  apparent,  forces  were 
marched  to  every  port  of  the  kingdom  in  order  to 
prevent  the  anticipated  influx  of  foreigners  from 
France  and  Flanders ;  moreover  an  army  was  des- 
patched to  cope  with  the  levies  of  the  traitorous 
prince.  In  the  mean  time  Philip  was  not  idle,  but 
advanced  into  Normandy  at  the  head  of  a  numerous 
body  of  men ;  ravaged  the  country,  took  several 
fortresses,  and  advanced  as  far  as  Rouen,  to  which  he 
laid  siege ;  but  the  brave  earl  of  Leicester,  who  had 
just  returned  from  the  crusade,  happened  to  be  in  the 
place,  and  made  such  a  vigorous  defence,  that  the 
French  were  compelled  to  retire.  In  England,  castle 
after  castle  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  royalist  party,- 


284 

until  John,  perceiving  that  his  efforts  were  useless' 
abandoned  the  idea  of  conquering  the  country,  and 
once  more  returned  to  France.  If  the  rumour  of 
Richard's  decease  had  gained  any  ground  amongst 
his  people,  they  were  speedily  undeceived  by  the 
arrival  of  the  bishop  of  Salisbury  with  letters  from 
the  king,  thanking  his  friends  for  their  fidelity  to 
his  cause  under  such  trying  circumstances,  and 
urging  them  to  make  every  possible  exertion  to  raise 
the  sum  requisite  for  his  ransom. 

This  was  done  in  the  following  manner.  A  tax 
of  twenty  shillings  was  levied  from  every  knight's 
fee;  one-tenth  of  the  tithes  was  taken  from  the 
parochial  clergy,  and  a  similar  collection  made  from 
the  burgesses  of  the  towns  ;  the  bishops,  abbots,  and 
nobility,  contributed  a  fourth  of  their  yearly  revenue ; 
the  Cistercians  gave  up  for  one  year  their  income 
upon  wool,  and  the  plate  of  the  churches  was  pawned 
or  sold.  All  classes  of  the  community  thus  bore 
their  share,  and  made  the  sacrifice  willingly,  for  not- 
withstanding the  inconveniences  necessarily  produced 
thereby,  they  would  have  done  even  more  to  rescue 
themselves  from  the  state  of  anarchy  and  confusion 
into  which  they  were  thrown,  by  the  dissensions 
among  the  nobles  and  the  repeated  attempts  of  John. 
Two-thirds  of  the  sum  required  were  thus  imme- 
diately raised,  and  as  it  had  been  settled  by  the 
diet  of  Worms  that  on  payment  of  this  proportion 
Richard  should  be  set  at  liberty,  provided  he  gave 
hostages  for  the  remainder,  the  queen  mother  Elea- 
nor and  the  archbishop  of  Rouen  proceeded  to  Mentz, 
where  the  ransom  was  appointed  to  be  paid. 

Philip  of  France  was  too  inveterate  an  enemy,  and 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  285 

John  too  subtle  a  traitor,  to  permit  the  conditions  of 
the  late  treaty  to  be  kept,  if  any  art  of  theirs  could 
throw  an  obstacle  in  the  way.  The  former,  therefore, 
wrote  a  most  pressing  letter  on  the  part  of  himself 
and  his  confederate  to  Henry,  wherein  he  did  not 
seek  to  conceal  the  personal  advantages  which  they 
expected  from  a  prolongation  of  Richard's  captivity, 
but  offered,  if  the  emperor  would  only  delay  for  a  year 
the  fulfilment  of  the  treaty,  to  pay  the  same  sum  sti- 
pulated for  the  ransom,  independently  of  all  which 
might  afterwards  be  exacted  from  the  English.  In 
making  this  proposal  Philip  showed  that  he  perfectly 
understood  the  cold  and  selfish  character,  so  unlike 
true  German  candour,  of  the  man  with  whom  he  had 
to  deal*;  nor  was  it  without  its  due  effect,  for  when 
the  day  appointed  for  the  negotiation  arrived,  the  em- 
peror hesitated  for  a  long  time  to  receive  the  ransom, 
and  finally,  taking  Richard  aside,  exhibited  to  him 
the  letters  of  Philip  and  his  brother  John,  and  plainly 
hinted  that  he  was  more  than  half  inclined  to  follow 
their  advice.  Richard  almost  began  to  despair  of 
his  liberty.  This  last  declaration  of  the  emperor 
showed  that  he  regarded  his  honour  little  in  com- 
parison with  his  interest;  and  if,  as  seemed  very 
likely,  these  letters  were  shown  to  him  in  the  hope 
that  when  he  saw  how  high  a  value  Philip  placed  on 
his  captivity,  he  would  offer  an  augmentation  of  his 
ransom,  how  was  it  possible  to  expect  that  the  people 
of  England,  whose  exertions  and  sacrifices  were 

*  Heiiry's  character  may  be  summed  up  in  the  few  words  of 
Menzcl.  "  Der  neue  Kaiser  besass  die  ganze  Thatkraft  seines 
Vaters,  scheute  aber  auch  unedle  Mittel  nicht  (wie  gegen  Richard 
Lowenherz,)  und  iibte  kaltblutig  Grausamkeiten." — Geschichte 
der  Deutschen. 


286  THE   LIFE    AXD    TIMES    OP 

already  so  great,  should  rob  themselves  of  more  to  glut 
the  covetousness  of  a  greedy  foreign  potentate  ?  But 
there  were,  among  those  assembled  at  Cologne,  others 
besides  the  emperor  who  had  a  deep  interest  in  the 
honour  of  the  German  nation,  and  these  were  not 
willing  that  their  country  should  become  in  the 
mouth  of  Europe  a  by- word  of  infamy  and  reproach. 
The  dukes  of  Suabia  and  Louvain,  the  count  Pala- 
tine of  the  Rhine,  and  most  of  the  principal  clergy, 
made  so  strong  a  remonstrance  to  the  emperor,  that 
he  dared  not  any  longer  delay  the  fulfilment  of 
the  treaty,  but  on  payment  of  the  stipulated  sum 
declared  Richard  free  ;  and  received  the  archbishop 
of  Rouen,  the  bishop  of  Bath,  and  several  noblemen, 
as  hostages  for  payment  of  the  remainder,  and  for 
Richard's  observance  of  peace  and  amity  towards 
Henry  and  the  German  empire.  From  the  moment 
when  Richard  received  his  dismissal,  all  bad  feeling 
between  him  and  his  captors  seems  to  have  expired. 
The  emperor  and  German  dignitaries  instantly  de- 
spatched state  letters  to  Philip  and  prince  John, 
ordaining  them  upon  receipt  thereof  to  surrender  all 
towns,  castles,  and  others,  which  they  had  taken  in 
England  or  Normandy  during  the  king's  captivity 
to  the  rightful  owner,  apprising  them  at  the  same  time 
that  if  they  should  refuse  or  delay  to  do  so,  they, 
the  heads  of  the  empire,  would,  in  pursuance  of  their 
treaty  with  Richard,  combine  to  assist  him  by  force  of 
arms.  At  the  same  time,  Coeur-de-Lion  promised, 
in  the  event  of  such  a  war,  large  revenues  to  the 
princes  who  might  aid  him  in  recovering  his  rights, 
and  therefore  the  majority  of  those  present  did 
homage  to  him  under  the  usual  reservations. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  287 

From  Mentz  Richard  proceeded  under  an  imperial 
escort  to  Cologne,  where  he  was  affectionately  re- 
ceived by  the  archbishop  of  the  place,  and  after  a 
short  stay  at  Antwerp  he  embarked  at  Swyne,  and 
amidst  the  acclamations  of  his  subjects,  landed  at 
Sandwich  on  the  thirteenth  day  of  March,  1 194,  after 
an  absence  of  more  than  four  years. 

In  return  for  the  services  and  attachment  of  Hu- 
bert, bishop  of  Salisbury,  Richard  while  at  Hagenau 
nominated  him  to  the  see  of  Canterbury,  vacant  by 
the  death  of  archbishop  Baldwin,  who  died  in  the 
Holy  Land.  On  the  return  of  Hubert  to  England, 
which  event  some  time  preceded  that  of  his  king,  his 
nomination  was  confirmed,  and  he  took  a  very  active 
share  in  raising  the  ransom.  It  so  happened  that  a 
certain  churchman,  by  name  Adam,  of  the  establish- 
ment of  Saint  Edmund,  a  noted  intriguer  and  confi- 
dential emissary  of  John,  arrived  in  London  a  short 
time  before  the  liberation  of  the  king,  and  waited 
upon  the  archbishop,  to  whom  he  was  personally 
known.  As  the  limits  of  hospitality  in  those  days 
were  not  very  accurately  defined,  it  is  probable  that 
the  good  cheer  of  the  prelate  overmastered  the  pru- 
dence of  the  diplomatist ;  for  Adam  communicated 
without  reserve  the  plans  and  projects  of  his  master, 
stated  that  the  king  of  France  had  delivered  to  him 
the  castles  of  Driencourt,  and  the  Arches  in  Nor- 
mandy, both  of  which  were  previously  in  the  custody 
of  the  archbishop  of  Rheims, — and  that  he  would 
have  put  him  in  possession  of  more,  had  there  been 
enough  tall  fellows  in  Normandy  to  maintain  them 
against  the  forces  of  the  king.  He  also  threw  out 
hints  of  the  nature  of  his  present  expedition,  and 


288  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

said  enough  to  convince  the  archbishop  that,  in  spite 
of  the  apparent  inactivity  of  John,  a  formidable  plot 
was  in  progress,  which  might  prove  of  the  utmost 
detriment  to  England  unless  it  were  immediately 
checked.  The  situation  of  Adam,  as  his  guest,  pre- 
vented him  from  arresting  his  person,  but  on  the 
next  day,  the  mayor  of  London  took  the  garrulous 
churchman  into  custody,  and  delivered  over  his 
papers  to  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  imme- 
diately laid  them  before  the  council.  These  documents 
established  so  clearly  the  existence  of  a  dangerous 
conspiracy  in  England  among  the  friends  of  John, 
that  the  council  with  one  consent  determined  to 
dispossess  him  of  all  his  territories,  and  to  lay  siege 
to  the  castles  which  still  remained  in  his  hands  ;  and 
this  was  accordingly  done.  The  bishop  of  Durham 
invested  the  castle  of  Tickhill,  whilst  David,  earl  of 
Huntingdon,  and  the  lord  Ferrers,  marched  against 
Nottingham.  These  two  places  alone  held  out  when 
Richard  landed  at  Sandwich ;  the  other  castles, 
being  those  of  Lancaster,  Albemarle,  and  Saint 
Michael,  surrendered  after  a  feeble  resistance.  So 
soon  as  the  governor  of  Tickhill  castle,  Robert  de  la 
Mare,  heard  the  rumour  of  the  king's  arrival,  he 
craved  permission  of  the  bishop  of  Durham  to  des- 
patch two  messengers  in  order  that  he  might  ascer- 
tain the  fact,  and  immediately  after  surrendered  at 
discretion.  The  garrison  of  Nottingham  made  a 
more  desperate  resistance,  and  refused  to  yield  even 
when  Richard  appeared  in  person  before  the  walls; 
but  a  vigorous  attack,  under  the  superintendence  of 
the  martial  king,  soon  convinced  them  of  their  follr, 
and  they  also  delivered  up  their  charge. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  289 

The  faction  of  John  being  thus  rendered  harmless 
in  England,  Richard  proceeded  to  punish  the  leading 
men  who  during  his  absence  had  proved  false  to 
their  oaths  and  allegiance.  This  vengeance  fell  most 
heavily  upon  the  bishop  of  Coventry,  and  upon, 
Gerard  de  Camville,  and  Hugo  Bardolph,  who  were 
deprived  of  their  respective  charges  in  Lincoln  and 
York  ;  and  in  respect  of  the  oath  unwarily  taken  by 
the  nobility,  and  recognising  the  succession  of  John 
to  the  throne,  that  prince  was  declared,  on  accouut 
of  his  late  treasons,  incapable  of  succeeding,  and  the 
destination  reverted  to  the  young  prince  Arthur  of 
Bretagne.  Richard  found  himself  compelled  im- 
mediately after  his  return  to  resort  to  a  step,  which, 
had  he  been  less  popular  with  his  subjects,  must  have 
caused  the  greatest  dissatisfaction.  The  royal  trea- 
sury was  of  course  entirely  exhausted,  and  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  by  some  means  or  other  to  raise 
funds  for  the  prosecution  of  the  war  with  France, 
which  now  appeared  inevitable.  This  could  only 
be  accomplished  by  further  taxation,  and  the  sale  of 
public  offices.  No  tax  was  probably  ever  levied  iu 
such  extreme  haste,  for  Richard  wasanxiousto  be  gone ; 
but,  singularly  enough,  even  when  every  hour  was 
the  most  precious,  it  was  deemed  advisable  that  the 
ceremony  of  the  coronation  should  be  repeated  ;  and 
this  was  performed  at  AVinchester,  by  Hubert  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  in  the  presence  of  most  of  the 
prelates  and  nobility*.  William  king  of  Scotland  also 

-  *Geoffry  archbishop  of  York  would  not  attend  upon  this  occa- 
sion, on  account  of  a  dispute  with  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury 
regarding  the  right  of  the  former  to  have  a  cross  carried  befons 
him  out  of  the  hounds  of  his  own  diocese.  This  squabble  is  repeat- 
edly mentioned  by  Hoveden,  and  seems  to  have  excited  no  little 
interest  among  the  church  men  of  the  day. 
TJ 


290  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OP 

paid  a  visit  of  congratulation  to  his  brother  sovereign 
upon  this  occasion,  and  was  received  with  remarkable 
kindness,  which  indeed  he  well  merited,  as  his  con- 
duct during  the  absence  of  Richard  had  been  most 
pure  and  blameless.  He  was  further  desirous  to 
obtain  a  grant  of  the  northern  counties  of  England 
on  the  same  terms  on  which  his  father  had  held  them ; 
but  this  request  was  negatived  by  Richard,  who  repre- 
sented that  even  although  the  claim  were  just,  this 
was  a  most  improper  time  for  England,  menaced  as  she 
was  from  different  quarters,  to  cede  any  of  her  territo- 
ries, as  such  a  concession  would  certainly  be  considered 
as  the  dictate  of  fear,  and  not  of  justice  or  affection. 
Richard  now  hastened  to  join  his  army,  which 
rendezvoused  at  Portsmouth,  and  on  the  second  of 
May  set  sail;  but  the  weather  proved  so  tempestuous 
that  he  was  forced  to  put  back,  and  did  not  land  in 
Normandy  until  a  fortnight  afterwards.  One  of 
the  first  persons  who  greeted  him  on  his  arrival  was 
the  arch-traitor  John,  who,  as  his  brother  truly  re- 
marked, might  succeed  by  intrigue,  but  could  neither 
win  nor  keep  a  kingdom  by  force  of  arms.  This 
proceeding  of  John  was  a  bold  though,  strictly  speak- 
ing, not  a  dangerous  step ;  for  Richard  had  never 
shown  any  symptoms  of  a  revengeful  nature,  parti- 
cularly towards  those  who  trusted  to  his  clemency, 
and  Eleanor  the  queen-mother  had  promised  to  use 
her  powerful  intercession  in  behalf  of  her  guilty  son. 
John  was  accordingly  pardoned ;  but  neither  the 
broad  domains  nor  the  castles  which  he  formerly 
possessed  were  restored  to  his  keeping.  It  is  likely 
that  Richard  attributed  his  ambition  to  the  possession 
of  undue  authority,  and  resolved  in  future  to  prevent 
so  convenient  a  plea  for  trespass. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  291 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Military  Operations  in  Normandy — Defeat  of  the  French — Tour- 
naments first  established  in  England — Disputes  of  the  Archbishops 
of  Canterbury  and  York — Richard's  conduct  towards  his  Brother 
and  Nephews — Proposed  Marriage  between  Otho  of  Saxony  and 
the  Daughter  of  William  the  Lion — Policy  of  the  Church  of 
Rome — Negotiations  with  the  Emperor — War  with  France  con- 
tinued— Letter  from  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain — Its  Authen- 
ticity discussed — Scandalous  Behaviour  of  Philip  to  the  Danish 
Princess — Riot  in  London — History  and,  Death  of  William 
Fitzosbert — Character  and  Conduct  of  Hubert  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury — and  of  Hugh  Bishop  of  Lincoln — Dispute  with 
the  Archbishop  of  Rouen,  and  Fortification  of  Andeli — Marriage 
of  Richard's  Sister  Joanna,  and  Succession  of  William  Longespee 
to  the  Earldom  of  Salisbury. 

PHILIP  was  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Verneuil  at 
the  time  when  Richard  landed  in  Normandy.  The  king 
of  France,  although  previously  aware  of  the  great  dili- 
gence and  activity  of  his  rival,  presumed  that  after  so 
long  an  absence  he  would  find  sufficient  occupation  to  . 
detain  him  in  England  for  a  considerable  period,  and 
would beforcedtoleaveNormandy  toits  own  resources. 
In  this  expectation,  however,  he  was  sorely  disap- 
pointed. Coeur-de-Lion,  burning  with  eagerness  to 
pay  back  some  portion  of  that  heavy  debt  of  injury 
which  he  owed  to  the  author  of  his  misfortunes, 
advanced  from  Barfleur  by  forced  marches,  and 
encamped  near  the  castle  of  L'Aigle,  at  no  great 
distance  from  the  enemy.  His  sudden  apparition  so 
confounded  the  French,  that  they  thought  it  prudent 
in  the  mean  time  to  retire  from  Verneuil.  Richard 
accordingly  entered  that  town,  and,  after  giving 
directions  for  the  repair  of  the  fortifications,  hastened 
u  2 


292  THE    LIFE    A>'D    TIMES    OP 

to  Loches  in  Touraine,  which  still  held  out  for  Philip, 
and  had  been  for  some  time  invested  by  the  troops 
of  Navarre,  under  command  of  the  brother  of  Beren- 
garia,  but  without  success.  A  vigorous  attack, 
directed  and  led  by  Richard,  soon  forced  the  garrison 
to  surrender ;  and  several  places  of  lesser  note  pre- 
sently fell  into  his  hands.  In  the  mean  time  Philip 
advanced  upon  Rouen,  and  took  a  castle  at  no  great 
distance  from  that  city ;  but  he  must  either  have  con- 
sidered his  forces  inadequate  to  its  reduction,  or  been 
apprehensive  that,  if  he  advanced  too  far,  the  king 
of  England  might  fall  upon  his  rear,  for,  after  remain- 
ing for  a  day  or  two  in  a  menacing  attitude,  he 
drew  off  towards  Evreux.  Although  Rouen  was 
thus  freed  from  impending  danger,  it  sustained  a 
severe  loss  in  the  capture  of  its  bravest  defender,  the 
earl  of  Leicester,  who,  riding  out  without  attendants 
as  was  his  wont,  fell  unawares  into  an  ambuscade  of 
the  enemy,  and  was  made  prisoner  after  a  desperate 
resistance.  Philip  was  too  well  aware  of  the  value 
of  his  prize  to  part  with  him  on  easy  terms  ;  and  it 
was  not  until  he  had  endured  a  lengthened  imprison- 
ment, that  the  earl,  by  payment  of  an  extravagant 
ransom,  regained  his  personal  liberty.  Evreux  was 
the  next  city  which  the  French  king  terrified  by  hfe 
approach  ;  it  was  taken,  plundered,  and  burned.  In 
revenge  for  this  injury,  Richard  set  upon  the  French 
army  near  Freteval,  and  forced  them  to  take  flight, 
with  the  loss  of  many  men,  and  their  whole  baggage 
and  stores,  besides  the  military  chest,  which  was  said 
to  contain  many  important  records  of  the  kingdom. 
This  was  certainly  a  strange  charter  -  box  for 
such  documents ;  but  French  authors  have  since 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  293 

not  scrupled  to  assert  that  the  principal  materials  for 
that  period  of  their  country's  history  were  lost  upon 
this  occasion  ;  and  the  report  is  so  singular,  that  it 
could  hardly  have  arisen  without  some  foundation 
upon  fact.  In  the  flight  which  followed  this  engage- 
ment Philip  made  a  narrow  escape,  for  Richar<f  was 
determined  if  possible  to  seize  upon  the  person  of  his 
rival,  and  followed  hard  after  the  fugitives.  It  was 
only  by  separating  from  his  men  and  slipping  unper- 
ceived  into  a  church,  that  the  French  king  saved 
himself  from  captivity.  Richard  on  that  day  tired 
out  two  horses,  and  pursued  the  enemy  over  the 
borders  of  Normandy  and  into  the  territory  of 
France.  After  this  a  truce  was  concluded  for  the 
space  of  a  year;  but  as  war  again  broke  out  after  the 
expiry  of  the  term,  it  is  needless  to  tire  the  reader 
with  a  detailed  account  of  the  articles. 

In  England  tournaments  or  passages  of  arms  had 
l>een  entirely  suspended  since  the  days  of  king 
Stephen.  Henry  II.  was  too  constantly  engaged  in 
war  and  state  affairs  to  have  leisure  to  patronise 
these  gay  and  glittering  shows,  aiid  perhaps  he  was 
too  politic  to  allow  of  any  such  excuses  for  the  mus- 
tering of  his  turbulent  nobility,  whose  ambition  he 
could  scarcely  bridle  when  they  stood  unsupported 
and  alone.  Moreover  pope  Alexander  had  prohibited 
under  severe  penalties  all  such  martial  meetings, 
denouncing  them  as  savage  and  profane  in  the 
extreme,  and  forbade  that  any  one  who  might  be 
slain  on  such  an  occasion,  even  though  he  died  con- 
fessed, should  participate  in  the  privileges  of  Christian 
burial.  But  this  severe  mandate  was  not  confirmed 
by  the  successors  of  Alexander,  and  consequently 


294  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OF 

became  a  dead  letter.     Tournaments  were  repeatedly 
lield  at  various  places  on  the  Continent,  and  were  the 
favourite  amusement  of  Henry  the  elder  brother  of 
Richard ;  and  the  English  knights,  who  were  debarred 
from  these  magnificent  pageants  at  home,  eagerly  em- 
braced the  opportunity  of  attending  them  abroad, 
and  signalized  themselves  by  prowess  and  dexterity. 
It  had  not  escaped  the  keen  eye  of  Richard,  that  his 
own  knights,  although  as  brave  in  battle  as  any  whom 
the  world  could  produce,  were  nevertheless  inferior 
to  the  French  in  the  management  of  the  horse  and 
conduct  of  the  lance.     This  he  attributed  mainly  to 
the  want  of  such  constant  training  as  the  tournament 
alone  could  afford ;  and  he  therefore  resolved  to  revive 
the  obsolete  custom  in  England  under  certain  restric- 
tions.    No   person  was  qualified  to   enter  the  lists 
unless  he  could   produce  a  licence,  for  which   the 
following  sums  were  exacted ;   an  earl  paid  twenty 
marks,  a  baron  ten,  a  landed  knight  four,  and  all 
others  were  rated  at  two.     This  enactment  was  very 
popular,  and  moreover  contributed  in  some  degree  to 
fill  the  royal  coffers*.     But  another  ordinance  which 
Richard  issued  about  the  same  time  gave  far  less 
satisfaction   to   the   community.     The   seal    of  the 
kingdom  had  been   lost   when  the  vice-chancellor 
perished  by  shipwreck  off  the  island  of  Cyprus,  and 
William   Longchamp  had   used  the  one   entrusted 
to  his   charge   with    so   little   discrimination,    that 
Richard,  partly  impelled  thereto  by  his  own  neces- 
sities, directed  a  new  seal  to  be  made,  and  ordained 
all  those  who  held  lauds  from  the  crown  to  apply  for 
a  renewal  of  their  charters,  and  to  pay  the  customary 
*  Hoveden.     Gulielmus  Neubrigensis. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  295 

fine.  This  was  a  most  reprehensible  exaction ;  but 
the  necessity  of  raising  money  became  every  day 
more  pressing,  and  the  sovereign  was  compelled  to 
try  all  expedients  for  which  he  could  show  even  the 
colour  of  an  excuse. 

In  this  year,  1194,  Tancred  king  of  Sicily,  whoso 
name  has  been  already  mentioned  in  this  history, 
died,  leaving  a  son  called  William,  who  succeeded  to 
the  crown.  Tancred  was  himself  a  usurper  ;  for  the 
real  right  to  the  throne,  after  the  decease  of  William 
the  Good,  was  vested  in  the  person  of  Constance, 
sister  to  that  king.  This  princess  was  married  to 
Henry,  then  emperor  of  Germany,  who,  deter- 
mined to  seize  this  opportunity  of  securing  new 
possessions  to  his  family,  marched  a  large  army  into 
Apulia,  and  finally  conquered  Sicily.  This  triumph 
was  stained  by  an  act  of  the  most  cold-blooded  atro- 
city, for  he  took  the  boy  William,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
tears  and  supplications  of  his  mother  Sibylla,  who 
offered  in  the  name  of  her  son  to  resign  every  dignity 
which  he  held,  except  the  countship  of  Lecce  and 
Tarentum,  the  patrimonial  possessions  of  the  family, 
put  out  his  eyes  and  mutilated  him  so  that  the 
house  of  Tancred  was  extinct  for  ever.  Thus 
the  lordly  race  of  Hohenstaufen  gained  possession  of 
Sicily  ;  but  God  did  not  forget  the  cruelty  of  Henry 
to  that  child,  thoiigh  the  retribution  fell  upon  the 
head  of  another  generation. 

By  the  treaty  of  Worms  forty  thousand  marks  of 
Richard's  ransom-money  were  payable  to  Leopold 
duke  of  Austria  ;  and  it  was  moreover  agreed  that 
he  should  have  the  custody  of  the  Cypriot  princess, 
and  that  the  sister  of  Arthur  of  Bretagne  should  be 


296  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

married  to  his  son.  Notwithstanding  the  time  which 
had  elapsed  since  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty,  and 
the  large  collection  made,  neither  was  the  money  yet 
paid  nor  the  other  stipulations  performed  ;  whereat 
Leopold,  losing  patience,  declared  that  he  would 
cause  all  the  hostages  of  the  king  of  England  to  be 
beheaded,  unless  a  speedy  settlement  of  his  claim 
was  made.  Baldwin  de  Bethune,  the  sharer  of 
Richard's  captivity,  and  still  a  pledge  for  his  faith, 
was  the  bearer  of  this  message  to  England,  which,  as 
may  well  be  conceived,  was  exceedingly  ungrateful 
to  the  king,  whose  reluctance  to  enrich  the  avaricious . 
duke  at  the  expense  of  his  subjects  was,  most  natu- 
rally, notwithstanding  his  obligation,  particularly 
strong.  But  the  threat  with  which  the  demand  was 
accompanied  admitted  of  no  compromise.  The  young 
princesses,  with  the  necessary  sum,  were  in  conse- 
quence entrusted  to  the  care  of  Baldwin  de  Bethune, 
•who  after  a  short  stay  in  Normandy  departed  with 
them  for  Vienna ;  but  even  that  delay  was  sufficient 
to  frustrate  the  purposes  of  his  embassy.  So  far  from 
any  feeling  of  shame  in  owning  himself  the  cause 
of  Richard's  imprisonment,  Leopold  gloried  in  it,  as 
though  it  had  been  a  brave  and  meritorious  action. 
He  even  celebrated  as  a  high  festival  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  day  on  which  the  English  monarch  fell 
into  his  power.  But  shortly  afterwards,  while 
riding  in  the  lists,  his  horse  fell  with  him,  and  in  the 
fall  his  leg  was  fractured  near  the  ancle.  Next 
morning  symptoms  of  mortification  appeared,  and  it 
was  judged  necessary  to  remove  the  foot  by  amputa- 
tion ;  but  so  unskilful  were  the  surgeons  of  the  time, 
or  so  serious  did  they  consider  the  responsibility, 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  297 

that  no  one  could  be  found  to  perform  the  operation ; 
so  that  at  last  Leopold,  who  was  not  deficient  in  a 
certain  kind  of  courage,  seeing  that  his  life  could  be 
preserved  by  no  other  means,  held  with  his  own 
hand  a  broad  axe  across  the  limb,  and  forced  his 
chamberlain  to  strike  it  through  with  a  hammer. 
The  sacrifice  was  unavailing,  for  the  patient  became 
manifestly  worse,  and  it  was  soon  apparent  to  all, 
and  felt  by  himself,  that  his  end  was  rapidly  ap- 
proaching. Therefore,  like  a  good  catholic,  he  sent 
for  his  prelates,  and  craved  absolution  from  his  sins, 
before  surrendering  his  soul  into  the  hands  of  his 
Creator.  The  churchmen,  more  conscientious  than 
himself,  and  coinciding  in  opinion  with  the  pope, 
refused  to  allow  him  this  comfort  \mless  he  made 
reparation  for  his  fault  in  seizing  upon  the  person  of 
a  crusader,  not  only  by  remitting  the  ransom  and 
setting  the  hostages  free,  but  by  binding  his  heir 
and  successor  along  with  the  magnates  of  his  duchy 
to  the  performance  of  the  same  after  his  own  decease. 
Few  men  remain  stubborn  when  death  stares  them 
so  closely  in  the  face.  Leopold  either  felt  or  affected 
to  feel  a  late  contrition,  and,  having  complied  with 
the  desire  of  the  clergy,  received  absolution  and  died. 
His  son  was  inclined  to  revoke  the  orders  given 
under  such  circumstances,  but  the  prelates  adhered 
firmly  to  their  point,  and  refused  to  sanction  the 
burial  of  the  body  until  every  article  was  fulfilled. 
After  ten  days'  delay,  during  which  time  the  funeral 
was  suspended,  the  new  duke  yielded  a  reluctant 
consent.  The  hostages  were  set  free  and  the  arreai's 
of  ransom  remitted  ;  and  this  intelligence  having 
been  communicated  to  Baldwin  de  Bethune,  before 


298  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES    OP 

he  entered  the  Austrian  dominions,  that  knight  con- 
sidered his  mission  at  an  end,  and  returned  to  Nor- 
mandy with  the  princesses  still  in  his  charge. 

In  the  year  1195,  Hugh  bishop  of  Durham, 
formerly  grand  justiciary  of  England,  died,  and  a 
grievous  dispute  broke  out  between  Hubert  the 
primate  of  Canterbury,  and  Geoffry  archbishop  of 
York,  regarding  certain  matters  of  church  polity. 
The  latter  prelate  was  also  embroiled  with  the  clergy 
of  his  own  diocese,  whose  privileges  he  treated  with 
little  ceremony ;  but  these  questions  are  of  small 
interest  to  the  modern  reader,  although,  judging  from 
the  space  they  occupy  in  the  pages  of  the  monkish 
historians,  they  must  at  the  time  have  been  considered 
of  almost  equal  importance  with  the  advancement 
of  the  power  or  the  maintenance  of  the  national 
honour.  We  need  not  particularise  further  than 
merely  to  state  that  Geoffry,  throughout  the  whole 
of  the  discussion,  whether  from  wilfulness,  or  from 
a  conviction  that  the  papal  power  was  too  readily 
acknowledged  and  its  mandates  too  servilely  fol- 
lowed by  the  independent  states  and  clergy  of  Europe, 
pursued  such  a  line  of  conduct  as  brought  him  fre- 
quently within  the  pale  of  censure,  and  drew  down 
the  strongest  manifestations  of  displeasure  from 
Rome.  In  spite  of  all  these,  he  maintained  his 
point  with  a  firmness  that  might  have  done  credit 
to  any  of  the  early  reformers;  and  had  his  immediate 
antagonist  been  any  other  person  than  the  experi- 
enced and  sagacious  Hubert,  he  would  in  all  pro- 
bability have  prevailed. 

If  any  proof  of  Richard's  open  and  confiding  dis- 
position were  required,  we  might  instance  his  generous 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  299 

behaviour  towards  his  brother  John.  That  prince,  as 
we  have  stated  in  the  preceding  chapter,  received 
the  royal  forgiveness  in  spite  of  his  repeated  trea- 
cheries, but  did  not  obtain  restitution  of  the  lands 
which  the  council  during  the  absence  of  the  king 
declared  to  be  forfeited.  It  is  difficult,  judging  from 
the  tenor  of  his  character,  to  suppose  that  John  was 
in  any  wise  struck  with  remorse  for  his  ungrateful 
conduct.  For  cold  and  selfish  calculators  there  is 
usually  no  repentance ;  they  may  indeed  act  as  if 
they  wished  to  make  amends  for  their  fault,  but  a 
little  scrutiny  will  always  disclose  some  interested 
motive  beneath  the  veil  of  hypocritical  profession. 
And  so  it  was  in  the  present  instance.  The  return 
of  Richard — the  triumphant  shouts  of  the  people  at 
the  sight  of  their  king  and  champion — the  universal 
joy  which  that  occurrence  diffused  through  England 
and  the  Norman  provinces — and  lastly  the  discomfi- 
ture of  the  French,  soon  convinced  John,  at  no  time 
a  decided  visionary,  that  his  splendid  day-dream  of 
wresting  thesceptre  from  the  hands  of  his  brother,  and 
founding  a  dynasty  of  his  own,  albeit  at  the  expense 
of  half  the  Norman  territory,  was  a  vain  and  hopeless 
illusion.  Still,  though  less  near,  he  beheld  the  image 
of  a  crown,  which  might  be  his  hereafter  by  the 
more  legitimate  mode  of  succession,  and  to  this  only 

O  '  » 

one  obstacle,  the  boy  Arthur,  was  opposed.  He 
could  be  removed  at  a  more  convenient  season  ;  but 
in  the  mean  time,  as  Richard  was  neither  to  be  over- 
thrown by  force  or  circumvented  by  treachery,  it 
was  necessary  for  John  to  regain  his  lost  confidence, 
and  this  he  strove  to  do,  by  exerting  his  peculiar 
talents  against  Philip,  his  old  ally,  as  strenuously  as 


300  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

he  had  ever  used  them  to  supplant  his  absent  brother. 
No  one  was  now  more  devoted  to  the  English  cause 
than  John — no  one  more  ready  to  suggest  ex- 
pedients by  which  the  power  of  the  French  might 
be  crippled,  or  to  teach  his  countrymen  how  to 
profit  by  the  knowledge  acquired  during  his  long 
intimacy  with  the  enemy.  It  is  the  possibility  or 
rather  the  probability  of  such  tergiversation  that 
makes  an  unprincipled  ally  ten  times  more  danger- 
ous than  an  open  and  determined  foe. 

Richard's  character  could  not  be  termed  easy,  in 
the  common  acceptation  of  the  word.  Nevertheless, 
like  most  men  of  a  sanguine  temperament,  he  became 
habitually  attached  to  those  who  moved  around  his 
person,  and  seldom  allowed  any  injury  to  rankle 
long  in  his  mind.  No  schemer  himself,  he  did  not 
attempt  to  account  for  the  alteration  in  the  conduct 
of  his  brother  by  searching  for  hidden  reasons.  It 
was  enough  for  him  that  John  had  returned  to  his 
allegiance,  nor  did  he  seek  to  canvass  his  motives 
further,  but,  carrying  the  accorded  forgiveness  to  the 
furthest  degree,  reinstated  him  in  his  former  honours, 
restored  the  earldoms  of  Gloucester  and  Mortaigne, 
with  the  exception  of  the  castles,  and,  in  lieu  of  these 
and  some  lands  which  were  otherwise  disposed  .of, 
assigned  him  an  annuity  of  eight  thousand  pounds. 
Some  of  Richard's  older  followers  murmured  at  this 
excess  of  bounty  towards  a  convicted  traitor,  but 
the  king  had  long  since  forgotten  the  treason  of  his 
brother. 

This  is  but  one  instance  of  the  affection  which 
Richard  displayed  towards  his  kinsmen,  nor  ought 
his  early  disputes  with  his  brothers  to  be  considered 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  301 

as  proofs  to  the  contrary.  These  arose  from  circum- 
stances of  domestic  dissension  which  cannot  now 
be  thoroughly  understood  ;  and  it  must  be  recollected 
that  the  position  of  the  sons  of  Henry  toward  each 
other  was,  through  their  father's  strange  conduct 
and  improper  partiality,  so  unfavourable  to  the 
growth  of  brotherly  attachment,  that  we  need  not 
wonder  if  each  used  the  power  committed  to  him  at 
so  early  an  age  without  much  reason  or  discretion. 
We  do  not  seek  to  vindicate  Richard  from  the  com- 
mon blame,  but  we  are  amply  borne  out  by 
the  earlier  historians  in  the  assertion,  that  in 
his  private  character  he  was  ever  warm-hearted, 
attached,  and  generous  to  all  his  friends,  and  more 

»  O 

particularly  to  those  who  were  connected  with  him 
by  the  ties  of  blood.  We  have  in  a  former  part  of 
this  narrative  had  occasion  to  notice  his  attachment 
to  his  nephew,  count  Henry  of  Champagne.  His 
affection  to  John  manifested  itself  in  spite  of  so  many 
tingrateful  returns;  and  to  his  other  nephews,  Henry 
and  Otho,  sons  of  the  celebrated  duke  of  Saxony, 
he  fulfilled  the  office  of  a  father.  The  younger  of 
these  princes,  afterwards  emperor  of  Germany,  was 
Richard's  especial  favourite ;  and  all  his  thoughts 
were  bent  to  effect  a  marriage  between  him  and  the 
eldest  daughter  of  William  king  of  Scotland.  The 
Old  Lion  was  by  no  means  averse  to  the  match,  and 
even  went  so  far  as  to  propose  Otho  for  his  successor 
to  the  assembled  nobility.  The  Scotch,  however, 
have  always  shown  themselves  to  be  a  people  most 
jealous  of  intrusion,  and  unwilling  to  own  allegiance 
to  any  dynasty  except  their  own.  They  considered 
such  an  arrangement  as  derogatory  to  the  national 


302  THE   ETFE   AND    TIMES   OF 

honour,  and  flatly  refused  to  receive  a  foreign 
master  from  Germany,  even  although  married  to 
the  daughter  of  their  king,  so  long  as  the  blood- 
royal  of  Fergus  ran  in  the  veins  of  a  Scottish  prince, 
and  he  so  gallant  and  beloved  as  David  the  earl  of 
Huntingdon  and  Garioch.  In  spite  of  all  opposition 
William  was  inclined  to  press  the  point,  and  would 
have  done  so,  had  not  the  unexpected  pregnancy 
of  his  queen  at  this  important  crisis  given  him  new 
hopes  of  an  heir-male,  and  these  were  subsequently 
confirmed  by  the  birth  of  Alexander  II.  In  order 
to  compensate  for  this  disappointment,  Richard  pre- 
sented Otho  with  the  county  of  Poitou,  which  he  held 
until  the  general  voice  of  Germany  raised  him  to  the 
imperial  throne. 

On  account  of  the  exactions  which  he  was  forced 
to  levy  from  the  clergy,  who  at  that  time  were  by 
far  the  most  wealthy  portion  of  his  subjects,  and  also 
from  the  dissensions  which  arose  among  the  different 
prelates  during  his  reign,  Richard  has  been  some- 
times represented  as  an  enemy  to  the  church.  Ac- 
cording to  extreme  Protestant  notions,  this  might 
rather  be  considered  as  a  favourable  trait  in  his 
character  than  the  reverse — as  a  first  commencement 
of  that  resistance  to  the  Roman  despotism  which 
eventually,  and  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  succeeded 
in  shaking  off  the  yoke  of  spiritual  bondage,  and 
advanced  the  true  doctrines  of  Christianity  without 
any  of  the  superstitious  dross  which  the  lapse  of  ages 
had  suffered  to  accumulate.  This  maybe  a  grati- 
fying view  to  some,  but  it  is  essentially  erroneous. 
No  resistance  to  the  authority  of  the  pope  was  then 
contemplated  on  spiritual  grounds ;  nay  more,  we 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  303 

are  forced  to  admit,  that  although  abuses  in  the 
church  did  then  certainly  exist,  the  clergy,  as  a  body, 
and  particularly  the  court  of  Rome,  were  far  in 
advance  of  the  population  of  any  country  in  Europe 
both  in  morals,  learning,  and  high  religious  prin- 
ciple, tinctured  no  doubt  with  error,  but  still  ex- 
emplary and  good.  And  (if  we  may  be  pardoned 
the  digression)  had  the  Roman  church  still  con- 
tinued to  keep  ahead  of  the  social  and  intellectual 
improvement  of  the  people — had  she  gone  forward 
with  a  steady  pace  in  the  van  of  popular  opinion — • 
trying  all  things,  proving  all  things  by  the  standard 
that  was  entrusted  to  her  charge — applying  herself 
as  sedulously  to  self-examination  as  she  did  to  the 
suppression  of  heresy,  and  candidly  reforming  her 
errors  as  the  daylight  of  truth  flashed  more  vividly 
on  the  world — instead  of  standing  still  when  all 
other  institutions  w,ere  progressing,  and  attempting 
to  bar  the  torrent  when  she  ought  to  have  directed 
its  course — who  shall  say  that  the  church  of  Rome 
might  not  now  as  then  have  retained  her  spiritual 
supremacy,  and,  without  provoking  a  schism  that  has 
torn  half  the  Christian  world  from  her  sway,  have 
worn  as  pure  and  spotless  robes  as  those  churches 
who  uphold  the  creed  of  Luther  or  of  Calvin  ?  The 
truth  is,  that  Richard  received  more  countenance 
from  the  church  than  any  other  monarch  of  his  time. 
The  pope  expressly  forbade  Philip  to  enter  the  terri- 
tories of  his  absent  rival,  and  enforced  his  decree  by 
suspension.  The  thunders  of  excommunication  were 
launched  against  all  those  who  had  any  share  in  the 
imprisonment  of  the  Christian  king  and  crusader  ; 
and,  as  we  have  seen,  the  body  of  the  duke  of  Austria 


304  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES    OP 

was  not  allowed  to  be  buried  in  hallowed  ground 
until  satisfaction  was  made  for  the  outrage  he  com- 
mitted. Nor  was  this  support  of  Richard  confined 
to  Rome  alone.  The  prelates  and  clergy  of  England 
were  the  principal  instruments  in  restraining  the 
ambition  of  John,  and  bridling  the  contumacy  of 
other  nobles — they  were  the  men  who  advanced  the 
largest  share  of  the  expenses  of  the  crusade,  and  con- 
tributed the  most  towards  the  royal  ransom ;  and 
this  assuredly  they  would  not  have  done  had  Ri- 
chard been  an  enemy  of  religion,  or  a  rebel  to  the 
authority  of  the  pope.  Nor  did  the  king  repay  their 
support  and  countenance  with  ingratitude  ;  for  one  of 
the  first  uses  he  made  of  his  replenished  exchequer 
was  to  restore  to  the  different  churches  the  plate  and 
ornaments  sold  or  pawned  for  his  delivery,  and 
to  grant  the  clergy  such  additional  privileges  as 
in  the  end  effectually  reimbursed  them  for  their 
sacrifices. 

The  arrears  of  ransom  due  to  Henry  still  remained 
unpaid,  and  Richard  became  apprehensive  that  some 
such  message  as  that  which  he  had  received  from 
the  duke  of  Austria  would  be  sent,  and  even  tlie 
lives  of  his  hostages  perilled  by  his  involuntary  de- 
lay. But,  to  his  great  astonishment,  the  emperor, 
instead  of  assuming  the  character  of  an  urgent  cre- 
ditor, professed  the  utmost  good-will  and  friendship 
towards  him,  prayed  him  to  consult  his  own  con- 
venience as  to  the  payment  of  the  money  due,  and 
sent  a  magnificent  golden  crown  as  a  testimony  of 
his  sincere  attachment.  This  altered  conduct  was 
altogether  inexplicable,  until  a  second  message  from 
Henry  arrived  and  cleared  up  the  mystery.  After 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  305 

passing  some  severe  reflections  on  the  conduct  of 
Philip,  the  emperor  offered  to  enter  France  at  the 
head  of  a  powerful  army,  and  for  the  purpose  of 
co-operating  with  the  English  forces,  and  should  their 
efforts  be  crowned  with  success,  to  share  with  Richard 
the  most  fertile  conquered  provinces.  Coeur-de-Lion 
was  well  aware  that  the  junction  of  France  with  Ger- 
many had  been  long  a  favourite  project  with  the 
emperors,  and  the  present  seemed  an  excellent  op- 
portunity for  carrying  it  into  execution.  By  uniting 
with  Henry  he  might,  indeed,  have  the  gratification 
of  humbling  his  inveterate  enemy,  and  enriching  him- 
self at  his  expense;  but  there  were  other  and  posterior 
considerations  attendant  upon  such  a  step,  and  these  it 
was  impossible  to  overlook.  The  doctrine  of  the 
balance  of  power  was  even  then  tolerably  understood, 
and  the  attention  of  the  pope,  as  master-diplomatist 
of  Europe,  had  been  repeatedly  drawn  to  the  in- 
creasing growth  of  the  German  power,  and  means 
had  been  devised  to  prevent  its  further  extension. 
This  was  a  salutary  precaution,  since  Italy  had  been 
ere  now  inundated  by  the  irruption  of  the  northern 
hordes,  and  neither  England  nor  France,  in  former 
ages,  had  been  able  to  withstand  the  flow  of  that 
terrible  invasion.  Still  more  was  it  essential  for  the 
pope,  as  the  possessor  of  Peter's  chair  could  only 
maintain  his  supremacy  by  playing  off  one  state 
against  another,  and  so  maintaining  something  like 
a  reasonable  equality.  The  temporal  princes  often 
grumbled,  and  sometimes  even  rebelled  against  the 
interference  of  their  spiritual  lord ;  but  in  the  end 
the  church  always  carried  her  point ;  and  however 
odious  such  an  assumption  of  power  may  appear  to 
x 


306  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

us,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  had  a  most  salutary 
effect  in  maintaining  order  among  the  European 
nations,  hardly  yet  civilised ;  and  it  may  further  be 
doubted  whether  at  the  present  day  we  have  suc- 
ceeded, in  spite  of  our  congresses  and  quadruple 
alliances,  in  discovering  an  effectual  substitute. 

Such  were  the  feelings  of  the  court  of  Rome,  and 
even  Richard,  though  no  diplomatist,  understood 
enough  of  political  relations  to  divine  that  if  the 
emperor  succeeded  in  his  design  of  incorporating 
France  with  the  German  states,  England  must  in 
the  long-run  be  the  severest  sufferer.  Against  Ger- 
many and  France  singly  she  could  maintain  her  own 
independence,  as  she  had  done  successfully  before,  but 
if  by  any  means  the  united  forces  of  the  two  countries 
could  be  brought  to  bear  upon  her,  the  least  she  could 
expect  would  be  the  loss  of  her  continental  possessions, 
followed  perhaps  by  an  attack  upon  her  own  insular 
fortress.  The  lure  offered  by  the  emperor  of  an 
additional  province  or  two,  which  in  all  probability 
would  hardly  be  united  to  the  English  crown  before 
severed  from  it  again,  was  too  worthless  to  be  con- 
sidered; and  however  anxious  Richard  might  be 
to  prosecute  his  quarrel  with  France,  there  is  reason 
to  conclude  that  he  would  far  more  readily  have 
agreed  to  a  binding  peace,  than  united  with  an 
ally  whose  success  would  prove  more  dangerous 
than  if  he  sustained  a  defeat,  without  interference, 
at  the  hands  of  his  hostile  neighbour.  However, 
considering  the  peculiar  situation  in  which  he  stood 
with  the  emperor,  it  was  necessary  to  avoid  every 
appearance  of  suspicion,  and  even  to  testify  some 
acquiescence  in  the  general  principle  contained  in 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  307 

his  proposition.  As  an  experienced  and  wary  nego- 
tiator was  absolutely  indispensable  for  the  con- 
duct of  this  important  matter,  Richard  despatched 
his  chancellor,  Longchamp,  to  the  emperor,  with  full 
powers  to  treat,  but  with  private  instructions  to 
make  such  demands  as  the  German  would  be  likely 
to  refuse,  and  so  to  break  off  the  proposed  alliance 
in  a  manner  that  could  give  no  pffence  to  the  author 
of  the  scheme. 

Philip  having  learned  that  Longchamp  was  about  to 
pass  through  the  French  territories  on  his  way  to  Ger- 
many, presently  divined  the  nature  of  his  mission, 
and  resolved  if  possible  to  prevent  it  by  seizing  the 
person  of  the  ambassador-  The  chancellor,  however, 
found  means  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the  French, 
and  crossed  the  border  unmolested ;  whereupon 
Philip  declared  that  such  proceedings  were  nothing 
less  than  a  gross  violation  of  the  truce,  and  again  had 
recourse  to  arms.  The  campaign  which  followed 
exhibits  no  features  of  particular  interest,  as  the 
operations  on  both  sides  were  confined  to  the  storm- 
ing of  some  insignificant  castles,  and  mutual  devas- 
tation of  the  country,  which  lasted  for  several 
months  and  would  probably  have  continued  much 
longer  if  the  alarming  news  from  Spain,  of  the  inva- 
sion by  the  Moors,  had  not  caused  both  monarchs  to 
cease  from  their  hostilities  for  a  while,  and  led  them 
to  reflect  seriously  whether  the  blood  and  treasure 
they  were  squandering  in  the  prosecution  of  their 
private  quarrels,  could  not  be  made  more  available 
in  repulsing  the  common  enemies  of  Christendom. 
Another  conference,  therefore,  was  held  at  Gisors, 
when  terms  for  the  foundation  of  a  lasting  peace 
x  2 


308  THE   LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

were  proposed  and  favourably  regarded  on  either 
side.  Besides  the  adjustments  of  territory  which 
formed  the  principal  part  of  the  negotiation,  a  marriage 
was  negotiated  between  Louis  the  eldest  son  of 
Philip,  and  the  princess  of  Bretagne ;  and  Richard, 
ashamed  of  the  long  detention  of  Adelais,  restored  her 
without  any  conditions  to  her  brother.  Philip,  appre- 
hensive lest  some  new  accident  should  arise  again  to 
mar  her  nuptials,  married  her  without  delay  to 
John  count  of  Ponthieu.  It  would  have  been  well 
for  England  and  France  if  the  kings  had  in  all  sin- 
cerity proceeded  to  carry  the  above  arrangements 
into  effect ;  but  an  obstacle  presented  itself  in  the 
person  of  Henry,  who,  in  consequence  of  the  arrange- 
ments made  at  the  diet  of  Worms,,  was  necessarily  a 
party  in  every  treaty  between  Richard  and  Philip. 
It  was  by  no  means  the  interest  of  the  emperor 
that  peace  should  be  concluded  on  any  terms  what- 
soever, as  in  that  event  his  designs  must  have  been 
totally  frustrated,  and  perhaps  more  notice  taken  of 
his  late  proceedings  in  Sicily  than  he  was  at  all 
desirous  to  permit.  The  reply  which  he  sent  by 
Longchamp  in  answer  to  a  communication  from 
Richard,  was  decidedly  unfavourable  to  the  proposed 
treaty ;  but  as  he  could  not,  of  course,  disclose  his 
real  reasons  for  withholding  his  consent,  he  affected 
to  have  a  most  paternal  regard  for  the  honour  of 
England,  and  assured  the  king  that  such  an  arrange- 
ment with  Philip  would  be  construed  by  every  court 
in  Europe  into  an  admission  of  French  superiority. 
He  counselled  Richard  most  strongly  to  persevere 
in  the  contest,  and  as  he  owned  that  his  detention 
in  Germany  had  certainly  encouraged  the  French  in 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  309 

their  aggressions,  he  forgave  the  sum  of  seventeen 
thousand  marks  which  still  remained  unpaid  out  of 
the  balance  of  the  ransom.  Richard,  however,  was 
not  so  simple  as  to  place  implicit  credit  in  the  words 
or  motives  of  the  emperor ;  and  in  spite  of  this 
appeal  to  his  passions  would  certainly  have  come  to 
an  amicable  arrangement  with  Philip,  had  not  some 
misunderstanding  upon  a  trivial  cause  arisen,  which 
by  the  mutual  jealousy  of  the  kings  speedily  swelled 
into  a  quarrel.  The  negotiation  ended  by  an  arro- 
gant defiance  on  the  part  of  Philip,  pronounced  by 
the  bishop  of  Beauvais,  a  fierce  member  of  the 
church  militant  upon  earth;  and  all  attempts  at 
accommodation  having  proved  fruitless,  the  kings 
returned  to  their  own  dominions,  again  to  prepare 
for  a  longer  and  a  bloodier  campaign.  The  first 
incursion  was  made  by  the  French,  who  ravaged 
Normandy  as  far  as  Dieppe,  burned  that  town  with 
all  the  shipping  in  the  harbour,  took  the  town  of 
Issendon  and  laid  siege  to  its  fortress.  Richard  in- 
stantly marched  to  its  relief,  but  no  sooner  did  his 
army  appear  in  the  field,  than  the  French,  who  were 
inferior  in  number  if  not  in  valour,  thought  proper 
to  desist  from  their  undertaking,  and  under  cover  of 
the  proposal  for  a  truce  effected  a  safe  retreat.  Ri- 
chard was  by  no  means  disposed  to  listen  to  any 
such  proposals,  but  his  nobles  and  prelates,  who  were 
tired  of  the  war,  and  willing  to  accede  to  almost  any 
terms  which  should  free  them  from  the  bondage  of 
arms,  wrought  upon  him  so  far  as  to  gain  his  consent 
to  a  temporary  cessation  of  hostilities.  Under  cover 
of  this  agreement  the  French  withdrew;  and  here  we 
cannot  but  notice  how  much  the  power  of  the  king 


310  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

was  circumscribed,  and  how  dependent  lie  was  upon 
the  fiat  of  his  vassals;  for  had  the  scene  of  action 
been  Palestine  instead  of  Normandy  not  one  of  the 
invading  army  would  have  found  their  way  home, 
unless  by  the  exertion  of  such  supernatural  valour 
as  the  Saracens,  who  were  by  no  means  to  be  under- 
valued for  their  military  talents,  had  never  on  any 
occasion  exhibited. 

About  this  time  there  was  circulated  throughout 
the  courts  of  Europe  a  very  curious  document,  which 
is  well  deserving  of  our  attention ;  viz.,  a  letter  from 
the  sheik  of  the  Hausassiz  or  Old  Man  of  the  Moun- 
tain, regarding  the  death  of  the  marquis  Conrad,  on 
account  of  which  unfortunate  occurrence  Richard  was 
impeached  before  the  Germanic  diet.  We  are  not 
informed  of  the  proof  which  he  brought  to  clear  himself 
of  this  grievous  accusation,  but  it  was  no  doubt 
satisfactory  to  his  judges,  as  they  declared  him  inno- 
cent of  that  as  well  as  of  the  other  offences  laid  to 
his  charge.  Only  one  man  in  Europe  persisted  in 
maintaining  the  calumny,  but  as  this  accuser  was 
Philip,  the  bitterest  personal  enemy  of  Cceur-de- 
Lion,  an  opinion  coming  from  such  a  quarter  carried 
little  weight  and  found  no  supporters.  A  tolerably 
accurate  account  of  the  proceedings  at  Worms  seems 
to  have  been  transmitted  to  Palestine,  where  of 
course  it  was  received  with  the  greatest  eagerness, 
as  indeed  a  matter  of  far  less  importance  would 
have  been  if  connected  with  the  fate  or  fortune  of 
Richard.  Saracen  as  well  as  Christian  listened  with 
avidity  to  the  tale  of  the  wanderings,  imprisonment, 
and  trial  of  the  Melech-Ric,  and  in  the  course  of  time 
it  found  its  way  even  into  the  country  of  the  shun- 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  311 

ned  and  isolated  Hausassiz.  From  that  mysterious 
region  a  circular  letter  written  in  Arabic,  Greek, 
and  Latin,  was  sent  to  the  court  of  every  sovereign 
in  Europe,  acquitting  Richard  of  all  concern  in  the 
death  of  the  marquis,  and  claiming  the  honour  of 
that  act  of  murder  or  justice  for  the  Old  Man  of  the 
Mountain  alone.  This  epistle  (which  we  have  given 
in  the  Appendix*)  has  been  rejected  by  various 
authors  as  a  forgery,  chiefly  on  account  of  the  desig- 
nation of  the  sheik,  "  Vetus  de  Monte,"  as  this  was 
merely  the  name  by  which  he  was  known  amongst 
the  Franks,  and  not  his  proper  title.  This  objection 
appears  to  us  of  very  little  moment,  as  nothing  could 
be  more  natural  for  the  sheik,  in  addressing  Euro- 
peans, than  to  use  the  only  designation  which  they 
knew  or  could  recognize.  Neither  the  Arabic  nor 
Greek  version  of  the  letter  are  now  extant ;  but  we 
are  convinced  that  if  they  were,  the  former  at  least 
would  be  found  to  contain  the  Asiatic  title.  The 
period  also  when  this  letter  was  produced  argues 
favourably  for  its  authenticity.  If  it  had  been  laid 
before  the  Germanic  diet  there  would  have  been  a 
strong  presumption  against  it,  but  as  it  arrived  at  a 
time  when  subsequent  and  more  important  events 
had  almost  obliterated  the  recollection  of  Conrad  and 
his  tragical  end,  we  are  not  entitled  to  refuse  it  on  a 
mere  technical  objection,  even  were  it  no  otherwise 
remarkable  than  as  a  literary  curiosity.  It  is  also 
recorded  that  even  Philip  of  France,  after  the  perusal 
of  this  letter,  declared  himself  perfectly  convinced  of 
the  innocence  of  Richard,  not  only  in  so  far  as  re- 
garded the  marquis,  but  also  of  the  alleged  conspiracy 
*  See  Note,  F. 


312  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

against  himself;  and  added  that  his  principal  ob- 
jection to  a  lasting  peace  with  England  was  now 
removed*. 

It  is  said  that  at  this  period  Philip  was  desirous  of 
forming  an  alliance  with  England,  by  marrying 
Joanna,  widow  of  William  of  Sicily  and  sister  of 
Richard,  but  that  his  views  were  frustrated  by  the 
obstinate  refusal  of  the  lady.  It  is  well  worthy  of 
attention,  as  illustrative  of  the  feeling  of  that  age, 
that  Philip,  who  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  personal 
accomplishments,  and  certainly  the  most  conspicuous 
widower  in  Europe,  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in 
finding  any  princess  who  would  consent  to  be  his 
bride.  This  unusual  reluctance  to  a  royal  alliance 
on  the  part  of  the  fair  sex  generally,  arose  from 
the  wanton  and  ungenerous  behaviour  of  the  king 
to  Ingeburga,  sister  of  the  Danish  monarch,  whom 
he  married  one  day  and  divorced  on  the  next, 
from  mere  caprice,  and  added  insult  to  injury  by 
ordering  her  to  leave  France  immediately  and  return 
home  with  the  whole  of  her  attendants.  The  kinor 

O 

of  Denmark  was  not  powerful  enough  to  resent  this 
brutal  behaviour  as  he  otherwise  would  have  done, 
but  the  cause  of  the  slighted  Ingeburga  was  taken 
up  with  all  the  fervour  and  passion  of  chivalry  by 
every  manly  heart  in  Europe,  and  Philip's  unpopu- 
larity increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  proposals 
which  he  made  to  the  daughter  of  the  count  Palatine 
and  other  princesses  were  rejected,  and  his  third 
marriage  with  Agnes  de  Meranie  was,  on  the 
part  of  the  lady,  rather  one  of  compulsion  than  of 
choice. 

*  Guil.  Neubrig.     Hemingfoid. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  3]  3 

Notwithstanding  the  failure  of  this  more  intimate 
alliance,  the  harassing  wars  between  France  and 
England  were  for  some  time  discontinued,  and  both 
monarchs  had  more  leisure  to  superintend  the  ar- 
rangement of  their  civil  affairs,  but  in  the  following 
year,  (1196)  the  truce  was  again  broken,  and  hos- 
tilities commenced  anew.  It  would  be  useless  and 
tedious  for  us  to  recount  every  movement  of  the 
hostile  armies,  especially  as  no  one  battle  was  fought 
decisive  of  the  contest,  or  worthy  of  a  prominent 
place  in  the  pages  of  history.  In  the  reign  of  Rich- 
ard, daring  warrior  as  he  was,  the  arms  of  England 
did  not  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of  France,  and 
paralyse  the  energy  of  her  chivalrous  sons,  as  after- 
wards when  Harry  the  Fifth  and  the  Black  Prince 
stood  triumphant  on  the  fields  of  Agincourt  and 
Cressy.  The  oath  of  the  crusader  was  still  upon  the 
soul  of  Coeur-de-Lion,  and  the  terrible  sword  that 
had  so  often  cloven  the  ranks  of  the  Saracens  in 
Palestine,  fell  but  lightly  upon  a  Christian  head. 
We  have  therefore  only  touched  slightly  upon  the 
events  of  these  campaigns,  trusting  that  we  shall 
still  be  able  to  give  an  idea  of  their  general  effect, 
without  confusing  the  reader  by  entering  into  par- 
ticular detail. 

About  this  period  the  first  popular  disturbance 
which  can  be  called  a  rising  of  the  English  mob, 
broke  out  in  London,  and  for  the  time  wore  an 
alarming  appearance.  As  these  exhibitions  of  popu- 
lar ire  are  now  by  no  means  uncommon  in  our  larger 
cities,  it  may  be  interesting  to  know  how  the  first 
such  demonstration  commenced,  and  how  it  was 
regarded  and  suppressed  by  the  existing  authorities. 


314  THE   LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

The  imposts  levied  by  Richard,  for  his  ransom  and 
the  maintenance  of  the  war  with  France,  fell,  as  we 
have  already  stated,  very  heavily  upon  the  shoulders 
of  the  people.  In  short  "  the  rogues  "  began  first 
to  grumble,  and  from  grumbling  they  naturally  pro- 
ceeded to  that  species  of  resistance  sometimes  termed 
passive,  but  which  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  as  it  then 
stood,  was  nothing  short  of  actual  rebellion.  The 
nobles  and  the  clergy  who  held  their  lands  of  the 
crown,  and  were  entitled  to  expect  further  benefits, 
paid  their  quota  without  reluctance ;  as  did  also  the 
principal  citizens  and  trades  in  the  towns  who  enjoyed 
certain  privileges  and  immunities  denied  to  the  lower 
classes.  But  the  bulk  of  the  people,  upon  whom  the 
rays  of  royal  favour  never  shone,  the  hewers  of  wood 
and  drawers  of  water,  however  willingly  they  might 
have  contributed  their  pittance  to  procure  the  liber- 
ation of  their  king,  objected,  with  some  reason,  to 
allow  a  further  portion  of  their  hard-earned  gains  to 
be  wrung  from  them  in  order  to  support  wars  from 
which  they  could  not  derive  the  remotest  benefit, 
and  to  pay  Brabanters  and  mercenaries,  a  force  alien 
to  English  feeling,  and  obnoxious  to  the  country  at 
large.  It  must  also  be  kept  in  mind,  that  the 
period  of  the  Norman  conquest  had  not  so  long  gone 
by,  as  to  reconcile  the  commons,  who  were  chiefly 
Saxons  by  birth,  to  the  domination  of  their  foreign 
lords,  or  at  least  to  effect  such  an  amalgamation  as 
to  make  the  old  national  names  forgotten,  and  blend 
the  two  races  into  one.  No  doubt  the  first  strong 
feeling  of  dislike  had  gradually  died  away,  but  there 
still  remained  such  lingering  jealousy  as  needed 
only  opportunity  to  resolve  itself  into  something 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  315 

stronger,  in  fact  to  make  the  distinction  between 
the  Norman  and  Saxon  as  broadly  denned  as  it  was 
after  the  celebrated  battle  of  Hastings. 

Whether  justifiable  or  not,  there  is  little  reason 
to  doubt  that  the  taxation  fell  fairly  and  equally 
upon  all  classes  of  the  community ;  but  when  were 
the  people  of  England  or  of  any  other  country  dis- 
satisfied with  the  state,  that  they  could  not  find 
specious  reasons  for  resisting  its  authority?  The 
mob  took  umbrage  at  some  resolutions  for  the  col- 
lection of  the  tax  proposed  and  carried  by  the  mayor 
and  aldermen  of  London,  whereby  it  was  supposed 
that  the  richer  part  of  the  citizens  were  assessed 
equally  with  the  poor,  instead  of  paying  proportion- 
ally to  their  wealth  and  income.  This  matter  was 
taken  up  by  William  Fitz-Osbert,  a  citizen  of  Lon- 
don, one  of  those  democratic  champions  who  are 
always  ready  in  times  of  excitement  to  espouse  the 
popular  cause,  and  who  raise  themselves  to  a  tempo- 
rary notoriety  by  the  freedom  and  intemperance  of 
their  language.  This  English  Gracchus  was  of  Saxon 
origin,  a  bitter  enemy  and  contemner  of  the  Normans, 
whose  manners  and  customs  he  scorned  to  use.  In 
London  he  was  well  known  by  the  epithet  of  William 
with  the  Beard,  on  account  of  his  adherence  to  the 
peculiarities  of  his  ancestors,  in  preference  to  the 
fashion  of  trimming  and  sharing  adopted  by  all 
persons  of  his  quality.  This  man  finding  that  his 
representations  and  speeches  had  no  effect  in  changing 
the  line  of  measures  proposed  by  the  mayor  and 
aldermen,  had  recourse  to  the  dangerous  expedient 
of  assembling  the  people  themselves,  and  harangued 
them  in  such  inflammatory  terms,  that  the  mob  with- 


316  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES    OP 

out  premeditation  or  purpose  took  up  arms  and 
threatened  to  set  the  city  on  fire.  But  the  well 
affected  part  of  the  citizens,  united  by  the  prospect 
of  common  danger,  took  such  effectual  means  to 
prevent  the  consummation  of  so  mad  an  action,  that 
the  supporters  of  William,  after  the  first  moments 
of  excite.ment  had  gone  by,  became  ashamed  of  their 
precipitancy,  and  retired,  leaving  their  leader  to 
avert,  as  he  best  could,  the  punishment  due  for  his 
rashness.  The  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  as  grand 
justiciary,  issued  his  warrant  for  the  apprehension 
of  Fitz-Osbert,  who,  alarmed  for  the  consequences, 
took  refuge  in  the  church  of  Saint  Mary  of  the 
Arches,  and  claimed  the  protection  of  the  sanctuary. 
This  was  usually  extended  even  to  the  most  grievous 
criminals,  but  in  the  case  of  Fitz-Osbert  it  was 
thought  more  expedient  for  once  to  depart  from  the 
general  rule,  rather  than  permit  so  notorious  a  dis- 
turber of  the  public  peace  to  escape.  Moreover,  the 
citizens  themselves  were  exceedingly  incensed,  and 
peremptorily  demanded  that  a  public  example  should 
be  made  of  the  man,  whose  folly  and  presumption 
had  so  nearly  annihilated  their  property  and  destroyed 
the  capital.  Orders  therefore  were  given  to  seize 
upon  the  person  of  the  offender,  but  he,  rendered 
desperate  by  the  imminency  of  the  danger,  fled  to 
the  church  tower,  which  he  barred  against  his  pur- 
suers. The  rest  of  his  story  very  much  resembles 
that  of  Jacques  Van  Artevelde,  in  later  days.  The 
tower  was  set  on  fire,  and  Fitz-Osbert  compelled 
to  descend  amidst  the  shouts  of  his  adversaries,  who 
seemed  to  consider  his  capture  as  ample  compensa- 
tion for  the  loss  of  a  great  part  of  the  sacred  building. 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  317 

Once  in  their  hands  his  fate  was  decided.  After  the 
hasty  semblance  of  a  trial,  he  was  dragged  at  the 
tail  of  a  horse  to  the  elms  at  Tyburn,  and  hanged  in 
chains,  along  with  some  of  his  followers  of  whom  it 
was  judged  necessary  to  make  an  example  for  the 
edification  of  the  rest.  So  perished  William  Fitz- 
Osbert,  whom  some  have  honoured  with  the  vener- 
able name  of  martyr,  and  others  branded  with  the 
infamous  designation  of  traitor.  As  such  characters 
have  been  and  always  will  be  viewed  by  the  majority 
of  mankind  though  the  glasses  of  their  own  prejudice, 
we  shall  not  venture  to  decide  which  of  these  terms 
is  the  most  veracious*. 

Richard,  after  his  release  from  captivity  resided 
exclusively  on  the  Continent,  visiting  the  different 
provinces  in  succession,  and  repairing  the  injuries 
which  each  had  sustained  from  the  French.  In 
England  the  sole  management  of  the  public  affairs 
was  entrusted  to  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who 
displayed  remarkable  prudence,  and  devotion  to  the 
cause  of  the  king,  at  the  same  time  cautiously  re- 
garding the  interests  of  the  commons.  Longchamp 
still  continued  to  hold  the  office  of  chancellor,  but 
was  not  allowed  to  exercise  it  in  England,  for  Rich- 
ard, who  loved  the  man  for  his  personal  qualities 
and  unflinching  fidelity,  was  quite  sensible  that  the 
great  body  of  his  subjects  were  thoroughly  disgusted 
with  his  pride  and  arrogance,  nor  had  he  any  wish 
to  be  represented  in  his  most  important  dominions 
by  so  unpopular  a  deputy.  But  the  burden  thus 
laid  upon  the  archbishop  proved  almost  too  he  ivy 
for  a  prelate  so  high  in  office,  who  had  many  im- 
*  Mat.  Paris.  Hoveden.  Guil.  Neubrig. 


318  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

portant  duties  of  his  own  to  perform.  Like  "Wolsey, 
Hubert  perceived  that  it  was  a  hard  task  to  serve 
with  equal  devotion  both  his  God  and  His  king — 
that  the  press  of  secular  business,  and  the  accumula- 
tion of  worldly  affairs  had  the  effect  of  making  him 
in  some  measure  neglect  the  condition  of  the  church 
generally,  the  regulation  of  his  own  diocese,  and  the 
welfare  of  his  soul.  Unlike  most  churchmen  who 
have  sunk  their  sacred  character  in  that  of  the 
politician,  Hubert  was  a  strictly  honourable  and 
conscientious  man,  not  lured  from  his  original 
office  by  any  desire  of  personal  aggrandisement,  but 
solely  influenced  by  attachment  to  his  king.  The 
time  had  now  arrived  when  he  felt  it  his  duty  to 
entreat  Richard  that  the  load  of  government  might 
be  handed  over  to  younger  and  more  active  men,  so 
that  in  future  he  might  devote  the  whole  of  his 
attention  to  his  own  peculiar  functions  and  jurisdiction. 
But  the  king,  although  quite  sensible  of  the  justice 
of  this  request,  positively  refused  to  accept  his  resig- 
nation, alleging  that  he  could  not,  in  the  whole  of 
his  dominions,  find  another  man  so  well  qualified  to 
act  as  governor  in  his  absence.  This  was  no  empty 
compliment,  for  it  appeared  from  the  archbishop's 
accounts  that  he  had  raised  in  England,  during  the 
two  last  years,  the  large  sum  of  eleven  hundred 
thousand  marks,  which  had  gone  to  defray  the  ex- 
penses of  the  war,  and  Richard  could  on  no  terms 
afford  to  lose  the  services  of  so  able  and  honest  a 
treasurer.  Still  it  must  be  admitted  that  Hubert  did 
not  sufficiently  exercise  his  influence  over  the  king 
by  restraining  his  lavish  expenditure,  and  directing 
his  attention  to  the  internal  state  of  England,  which 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  319 

far  more  required  the  fostering  of  a  kind  and  paternal 
governor,  than  the  exactions  of  an  urgent  taskmaster. 
In  this  respect  his  character  is  placed  in  an  unfavour- 
able point  of  view  when  contrasted  with  the  conduct 
of  Hugh,  the  excellent  bishop  of  Lincoln,  who,  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  peremptorily  refused  to 
assist  in  levying  the  subsidies  in  his  diocese,  and 
thereby  incurred  the  severest  displeasure  of  the  king. 
But  Hugh,  being  well  acquainted  with  the  peculiari- 
ties of  his  sovereign,  cared  little  for  his  anger  or  his 
threats,  and  had  even  the  hardihood  to  present  him- 
self before  Richard  in  Normandy,  whilst  the  clouds 
of  resentment  were  still  lowering  on  the  royal  brow. 
Instead  of  excusing  his  conduct,  he  expostulated 
boldly  against  the  repetition  of  such  odious  taxes, 
and  exposed  their  injustice.  This  he  did  with  so 
much  frankness  and  good-humour,  that  the  king, 
who  at  first  received  him  very  coldly,  dismissed  all 
vindictive  feeling;  and  even  took  in  good  part  a 
lecture  on  the  subject  of  conjugal  infidelity  which  the 
worthy  bishop,  in  consequence  of  some  rumours 
prejudicial  to  the  happiness  of  Berengaria,  thought 
necessary  to  inflict  upon  him*. 

The  bishops,  in  fact,  took  far  greater  liberties  with 
Richard  than  his  nearest  friends  durst  venture,  and 
sometimes  made  such  opposition  to  his  will,  as  in 
the  case  of  a  lay  subject  would  have  amounted  to 
rebellion.  For  instance,  in  the'  course  of  these  wars 
between  England  and  France,  the  king  thought  pro- 
per to  occupy  the  island  of  Andeli  in  the  Seine,  and 
laid  the  foundation  of  that  castle  which,  under  the 
name  of  Chateau- Gaillard,  sustained  a  memorable 

*  Vita  S.  Hug. 


320  THE    LIFE   AND    TIMES    OF 

siege  in  the  course  of  the  ensuing  reign.  This  island 
was  situated  a  few  leagues  above  Rouen,  and  be- 
longed in  property  to  the  archbishop  of  that  place,  a 
great  friend  and  supporter  of  the  king,  as  was  testified 
when  the  affairs  of  England  were  entrusted  to  his 

O 

charge,  but  also  very  jealous  of  his  own  rights  and 
those  of  the  portion  of  the  church  over  which  it  was 
his  fortune  to  preside.  Although  the  fortifica- 
tion of  Andeli  was  manifestly  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance to  Normandy;  and  although  Richard  offered 
ample  compensation  for  the  small  spot  he  had  occu- 
pied, the  archbishop  would  not  consent  to  cede  one 
foot  of  the  church  lands  for  secular  purposes,  or  even 
to  sanction  their  alienation  by  accepting  an  equi- 
valent. Richard  was  equally  determined  to  pro- 
secute his  purpose,  and  the  immediate  consequence 
was,  that  the  archbishop  laid  Normandy  under  his 
interdict,  and  appealed  the  question  to  the  pope. 
This  power  of  interdict  was  certainly  one  of  the 
most  objectionable  and  cruel  parts  of  the  papal  sys- 
tem, inasmuch  as  it  deprived  the  people,  though 
innocent  of  all  offence,  of  the  benefits  of  the  church. 
Marriages  were  suspended,  baptism  forbidden,  even 
the  burial  of  the  dead  was  not  permitted  until  the 
interdict  was  removed ;  and  on  this  occasion  it  is 
recorded  that  corpses  were  left  lying  exposed  for 
weeks  at  the  gates  of  the  cemetery  of  Rouen,  because 
no  priest  dared  perform  the  funeral  ceremony,  or 
hallow  the  grave  for  the  deceased.  It  is  impossible 
to  say  how  this  dispute  might  have  ended,  or  what 
advantage  France  might  have  taken  of  a  quarrel 
so  opportune  as  this,  had  the  pope  been  as  scrupu- 
lous as  the  archbishop.  Fortunately  for  England, 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  321 

Celestine  was  not  merely  an  ardent  churchman,  but 
a  cool  and  decided  politician,  who  never  permitted 
his  judgment  to  be  warped  by  one-sided  or  pre- 
cipitate views.  After  a  full  hearing  of  the  contending 
parties,  he  decided  in  favour  of  Richard,  and  the 
archbishop  was  wise  enough  to  submit  without  mur- 
muring to  the  decree  of  the  pontiff  (not  without 
credit  to  himself,  as  some  of  his  brethren,  for  example 
the  archbishop  of  York,  had  on  previous  occasions 
refused  to  conform  to  that  supreme  sentence),  and 
received  from  Richard  in  exchange  for  Audeli,  the 
towns  of  Dieppe  and  Louviers,  which,  in  point  of 
value,  were  far  more  than  an  equivalent  for  the  little 
property  in  dispute. 

About  this  time  Joanna  queen  dowager  of  Sicily, 
and  sister  of  Richard,  was  married  to  the  count  of 
Saint  Giles,  a  nobleman  who  had  served  with  much 
distinction  in  the  Holy  Land ;  and  William  Long- 
espee,  the  natural  brother  of  the  king,  succeeded  to 
the  broad  estates  of  his  father-in-law,  and  received 
the  title  of  earl  of  Salisbury.  This  nobleman  was, 
next  to  Richard,  the  most  distinguished  of  the 
sons  of  tHenry  in  warlike  exploit,  and  at  a  sub- 
sequent period  occupies  a  distinguished  place  in  the 
pages  of  history,  having  taken  an  eminent  lead  in  the 
operations  of  the  next  crusade.  The  earl  has  by 
some  early  writers  been  confounded  with  the  martial 
bishop,  but  the  exploits  of  the  latter  have,  in  point 
of  time,  the  precedence.  Longespee's  reputation  was 
not  earned  until  after  the  decease  of  Richard. 


322  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES  OP 


CHAPTER  XII. 

State  of  Bretagne — Prince  Arthur — The  Earl  of  Flanders  enters 
enters  into  an  Alliance  with  Richard — Military  Operations  in 
France — The  Bishop  of  Beauvais  taken  Prisoner — His  Letter  to 
the  Pope,  and  the  Reply — Laws  for  the  Encouragement  of  Ma- 
nufactures, &c.  in  England — Its  State  at  the  Time — Death  of 
Saladin — New  Crusade  from  Germany — Death  of  Henry  of 
Champagne — of  the  Emperor  Henry — and  of  Pope  Celestine 
— Otho  elected  Emperor — New  War  with  France — The  French 
routed  at  Gamages  and  Courcelles — Peace  concluded  between 
the  two  Countries — Philip  accuses  John  of  Treachery,  which  is 
disproved — Richard  in  Aquitaine — Demands  a  Treasure  found  by 

•  the  Viscount  of  Limoges — Besieges  the  Castle  of  Chaluz — Is 
wounded  by  an  Arrow  from  the  Walls  —  His  Death  and 
Character. 

THE  year  1197  was  marked  by  several  important 
events.  Constance,  the  widow  of  Geoffry  and 
mother  of  prince  Arthur,  had  wedded  Ralph  Blon- 
deville  earl  of  Chester,  and  retained  until  now  the 
guardianship  of  her  son,  and  the  administration  of 
the  affairs  of  his  province.  Richard  considered  Bre- 
tagne a  territory  too  important  to  be  left  to  its 
own  resources  when  so  vigilant  an  enemy  as 
Philip  was  moving  in  its  vicinity,  and  proposed 
to  assume  the  guardianship  of  Arthur,  to  which 
office  he  had  undoubtedly  a  right  both  as  the  sove- 
reign and  as  the  uncle  of  that  prince.  Constance, 
however,  was  suspicious  of  his  intentions,  and  never 
having  been  on  very  friendly  terms  with  her  brother- 
in-law,  thought  fit  to  refuse  his  demand,  and  to  call 
upon  the  barons  of  Bretagne  for  support  against 
him.  Richard  had  never  entertained  the  most 
distant  idea  of  separating  Constance  from  her  son, 
nor  did  he  wish  to  deprive  her  of  her  just  autho- 


RICHARD    THE  FIRST.  323 

rity  ;  his  sole  object  was  to  prevent  Bretagne  from 
becoming  a  province  of  France ;  but  actual  resist- 
ance on  the  part  of  his  vassals  was  more  than  his 
fiery  spirit  could  endure.  Some  of  the  barons  to 
whom  Constance  appealed  for  support  were  notori- 
ously in  the  French  interest,  and  they,  too  glad  of 
any  pretext  for  revolt,  conveyed  the  young  prince  to 
St.  Paul  de  Leon  in  the  Lower  Province,  and  sent 
to  solicit  the  assistance  and  protection  of  Philip. 
Richard  instantly  despatched  his  Brabanters,  under 
the  command  of  their  captain  Marchades,  to  check  the 
rising  rebellion,  which,  after  some  bloodshed  on 
either  side,  was  effected,  and  Bretagne  placed  under 
the  protection  of  the  king.  As  for  Constance,  she 
was  permitted,  though  not  without  a  severe  repri- 
mand for  the  injustice  of  her  suspicions  and  the 
folly  of  her  conduct,  to  retain  the  personal  guardian- 
ship of  her  son. 

As  we  shall  not  again  have  occasion  to  speak  of 
Arthur,  whose  most  tragical  end  is  well  known,  we 
ought  not  to  pass  over  without  notice  the  brilliant 
promise  of  future  excellence  given  by  his  childhood, 
or  the  fond  expectations  entertained  by  the  people  of 
Normandy  and  England.  Arthur,  though  constitu- 
tionally delicate,  was  possessed  of  an  understanding 
and  intelligence  far  beyond  his  years ;  he  was  the 
darling  of  his  mother  and  the  idol  of  the  little  court 
of  Bretagne,  from  whence  his  praises  were  spread 
over  all  the  wide  country  that  ought  to  have  been 
his  inheritance.  But  it  was  not  alone  the  rumour 
of  so  rare  a  character  that  endeared  him  to  the 
English  hearts :  the  prophecies  of  Merlin  were  then 
universally  known  and  believed;  and  by  that  old 


324  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OF 

soothsayer  it  was  foretold,  that  although  when  the 
star  of  the  first  Arthur  should  have  set,  and  the  hero 
of  the  round  table  perish  by  domestic  treachery, 
darkness  and  woe  for  a  time  must  prevail  in  the 
land ;  yet,  that  a  second  Arthur,  more  glorious  than 
the  first,  would  appear  and  raise  England  to  a  place  of 
proud  dominion  far  above  the  reach  of  any  other 
nation  of  the  world.  In  the  son  of  Geoffry  the 
English  fondly  hoped  that  they  beheld  the  child  of 
promise,  and  exulted  in  the  anticipation  of  a  long  and 
prosperous  reign.  How  these  hopes  were  blighted 
in  the  bud  is  known  to  every  student  of  history ; 
and,  possibly,  considering  the  spirit  and  immature 
growth  of  the  age,  had  Arthur  survived  the  period 
of  boyhood  and  succeeded  to  the  English  crown,  his 
reign  might  not  have  been  more  distinguished  than 
that  of  John.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  his  mild  and 
ingenuous  character  might  have  postponed  for  many 
years  the  grant  of  the  Magna  Charta,  from  which 
we  date  our  earliest  impressions  of  constitutional 
liberty.  Vain  it  is  at  all  times  to  speculate  upon  what 
might  have  happened.  What  has  happened,  we  know, 
and  with  that  alone  can  we  practically  deal.  Yet 
this  one  observation  we  may  make  as  a  conspicuous 
truth  in  world-history,  though  paradoxical,  that  a  bad 
prince  or  vicious  ruler  is  oftener  the  cause  of  ultimate 
good  and  regeneration  to  his  people,  than  one  more 
blameless.  Virtue  in  kings  is  usually  a  passive,  not 
an  active  quality.  Whole  generations  have  dreamed 
out  their  lives  under  such  inoffensive  sway,  nor  ad- 
vanced one  step  in  a  world  where  to  stand  still  is  to 
recede.  But  vice  is  rarely  passive.  It  attracts  obser- 
vation, excites  resistance ;  is  combated,  overthrown, 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  325 

and  one  dogmatic  stumbling-block  is  removed  from 
the  path  of  moral  progression. 

Up  to  this  time  Richard  had  maintained  the 
war  in  Normandy  single-handed :  the  only  foreign 
force  engaged  in  his  service  was  the  troop  of 
Brabanters,  a  mercenary  body  of  Free  Companions, 
who  sold  their  duty  and  their  blood  to  any  monarch 
in  any  quarrel  whatsoever.  The  Germans,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  did  not  interfere  in  the  contest 
further  than  by  an  offer  of  their  services ;  but  other 
states  now  began  to  take  some  interest  in  the  war. 
Baldwin  count  of  Flanders,  whose  vicinity  to  France 
made  him  very  jealous  of  the  aggrandizement  of 
Philip,  entered  into  a  league  with  Richard,  marched 
his  forces  into  the  territory  of  Artois,  and  laid  siege 
to  Arras.  On  the  advance  of  Philip  to  the  relief  of 
that  place,  the  count  retired  slowly  upon  his  own 
country,  and  manoeuvred  so  effectually,  that  he  drew 
the  French  forces  into  a  position  where  they  could 
not  advance,  except  in  the  teeth  of  a  hostile  and 
martial  population  who  were  all  up  in  arms,  nor  in  any 
way  effect  their  retreat,  as  by  a  preconcerted  plan 
every  bridge  was  broken  down  behind  them.  In 
this  dilemma,  Philip  was  fain  to  offer  any  terms  to 
Baldwin,  and  was  at  last  permitted  to  retire  unmo- 
lested, on  promising  to  restore  to  the  count  that  part 
of  Flanders  and  Hainault  which  the  French  had 
occupied  after  the  decease  of  his  predecessor  in  the 
Holy  Land.  The  princes  also  of  the  house  of  Cham- 
pagne declared  their  adherence  to  the  cause  of  Eng- 
land, and  other  nobles  of  France  seemed  ready  to 
follow  their  example. 

Amongst  the  partisans  of  Philip,  there  was  none 
more  active  or  more  conspicuous  in  the  council  of  tha 


326  THE  LIFE   AND    TIMES   OP 

field  than  Philip  bishop  of  Beauvais,  whom  we  have 
already  noticed  as  the  only  prelate  unscrupulous 
enough  to  officiate  at  the  scandalous  nuptials  of 
Conrad  of  Montserrat  with  Isabella  wife  of  Hum- 
phrey de  Thoron.  This  bishop  was  a  near  relative  of 
king  Philip,  and  a  personal  enemy  of  Richard,  whom 
he  hated  on  account  of  some  former  passages  in 
Palestine,  and  whose  captivity  he  had  managed  to 
prolong  by  his  secret  negotiations  with  the  emperor. 
It  was  to  his  influence  and  machinations  that  the 
failure  of  the  various  treaties  proposed  from  time  to 
time  between  France  and  England  were  mainly  to  be 
attributed  ;  and  once,  at  a  public  conference,  he  had 
the  audacity  to  revile  Richard  as  a  traitor  in  presence 
of  his  king,  who  heard  the  vituperation  of  the  foul- 
mouthed  prelate  in  silence,  nor  thought  it  necessary 
to  interfere. 

Baldwin  of  Canterbury  and  Hubert  of  Salisbury 
had  set  the  example  to  churchmen  by  personally 
bearing  arms  in  the  holy  wars.  This  practice  was 
not  only  suffered,  but  highly  approved  of  by  the 
pope,  who  conceived  that  such  instances  of  spiritual 
enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the  dignitaries  of  the 
church  could  not  fail  to  have  a  strong  effect  in 
rousing  the  energies  and  increasing  the  devotion  of 
the  army  to  the  Christian  cause.  It  was  usually 
understood  that  in  a  war  with  the  Saracens,  a  prelate 
might  without  reproach  or  derogation  to  his  sacred 
character  exchange  the  mitre  for  the  helmet,  and  the 
crosier  for  the  spear;  but  this  licence  was  not 
extended  to  the  case  of  wars  waged  between  two 
Christian  nations.  It  was,  therefore,  considered  a 
scandal  and  disgrace  to  the  church,  when  the  bishop 
of  Beauvais,  armed  to  the  teeth,  rode  forth  to  battle 


RICHARD  THE   FIRST.  327 

against  the  English  ;  and  even  the  French  prelates 
felt  themselves  bound  to  remonstrate  against  such  an 
indecorous  exhibition,  but  without  effect — Philip 
was  too  glad  of  the  assistance  and  talents  of  his 
kinsman  to  dissuade  him  from  his  present  course. 
Since  the  priest  thus  belied  his  sacerdotal  character, 
Richard  resolved  to  treat  him  as  a  common  but  most 
virulent  enemy.  He  despatched  a  considerable  force 
under  his  brother  John  and  Marchades,  with  orders 
to  besiege  the  city  of  Beauvais,  where  the  bishop 
resided  in  person,  and  if  possible,  to  make  him  pri- 
soner. A  siege  was  not  necessary.  No  sooner  was 
the  prelate  aware  of  the  approach  of  the  English, 
than  he  summoned  his  men,  and  came  out  at  their 
head  to  give  battle  to  the  intruders.  After  a  sharp 
but  short  conflict  the  French  were  beaten  off,  and 
the  bishop,  along  with  William  de  Merlon,  a  distin- 
tinguished  soldier  and  old  crusader,  was  taken  and 
led  to  Richard  at  Rouen.  All  due  respect  and  con- 
sideration was  shown  to  the  other  prisoners,  but  the 
bishop  did  not  receive  any  courtesy  at  the  hands  of 
the  king  :  on  the  contrary,  Richard  upbraided  him 
severely  for  his  insolent  conduct  on  a  former,  and  his 
unclerical  appearance  on  the  present  occasion,  and 
finally  ordered  him  to  be  strictly  confined  and  even 
loaded  with  fetters.  This  was  a  bold  step  on  the  part  of 
Richard,  but  it  seems  to  have  met  with  the  general 
approbation  of  the  church,  as  not  one  application 
was  made  from  any  quarter  for  the  release  of  the 
bishop  :  on  the  contrary,  it  was  deemed  a  matter  of 
rejoicing  that  so  turbulent  and  haughty  a  character 
was  deprived  of  the  power  of  fixing  further  scandal 
upon  his  order. 


328  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OF 

No  one  denied  that  the  punishment  was  a  sort  "of 
retributive  justice.  The  bishop  had  notoriously 
done  all  in  his  power  to  prolong  the  captivity  of 
Richard,  and  now  that  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  his  exasperated  foeman,  he  had  little  right  to  com- 
plain if  subjected  to  similar  treatment.  "  I  had 
more  chains  upon  me  in  Germany,"  said  Richard, 
"than  a  horse  could  carry,  and  all  through  this  un- 
lucky bishop — let  us  see  how  he  will  like  to  wear 
them  himself."  Ten  thousand  marks  was  fixed  for 
the  ransom ;  but  this  was  not  paid  until  the  bishop 
tried  the  effect  of  an  appeal  to  the  pope.  The 
letter  which  he  wrote,  seconded  only  by  the 
representations  of  his  brother  the  prelate  of  Orleans, 
is  still  extant,  and  is  one  of  the  best  specimens  of 
Jesuitical  pleading  upon  record.  It  is  interlarded 
with  pious  saws  and  texts  from  Scripture,  represents 
the  writer  in  the  light  of  a  shepherd  who  is  suffering 
on  account  of  his  exertions  to  keep  his  flock  from 
harm,  and  ends  with  a  request  that  the  pope  would 
interfere  to  procure  his  enlargement,  and  place  Ri- 
chard under  sentence  of  excommunication.  But 
Celestine  was  well  acquainted  with  the  real  character 
of  his  correspondent,  and  returned  him  an  admirable 
answer,  wherein  he  enlarged  upon  the  true  character 
of  the  priesthood,  and  rebuked  the  bishop  for 
meddling  with  affairs  so  foreign  to  the  nature  of  his 
duties.  "  Nevertheless,"  so  runs  his  letter,  "  I  will 
intercede  for  you  with  the  king  of  England — I  say 
intercede,  because  under  such  circumstances  as  yours, 
I  neither  can  nor  ought  to  ask  your  freedom  as  a 
matter  of  right,  but  only  as  a  personal  favour." 
Celestine  kept  his  promise  and  interceded  with 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  329 

Richard ;  but  that  monarch,  though  exceedingly 
attached  to  the  pope,  and  grateful  for  the  favours 
and  support  he  had  uniformly  received  from  him, 
•was  not  disposed  to  part  with  his  prisoner  on  such 
easy  terms.  His  answer  to  Celestine  is  remarkable. 
He  sent  by  a  messenger  the  coat  of  mail  which  the 
bishop  of  Beauvais  had  worn  on  the  day  of  his 
capture,  and  craved  the  pontiff  to  say  if  that  was  the 
garment  of  his  son,  or  no.  Celestine  replied  with  a 
smile — "  The  owner  of  that  coat  is  no  son  of  mine 
or  of  the  church,  but  a  child  of  Mars — let  Mars  de- 
liver him  if  he  can."  The  bishop  of  Beauvais  did 
not  recover  his  freedom  until  after  Richard's  decease, 
when  John  reduced  the  ransom  from  ten  to  two 
thousand  marks. 

The  threatening  attitude  assumed  by  Baldwin  of 
Flanders  and  the  house  of  Champagne  induced 
Philip  to  sue  for  a  truce,  which  lasted  for  another 
year.  Profiting  by  this  short  period  of  repose, 
Richard  sent  for  Hubert  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
and  at  his  suggestion  enacted  some  salutary  laws 
for  the  internal  administration  of  England.  One  of 
these  was  for  the  encouragement  and  improvement 
of  the  woollen  manufactures,  at  that  time  a  most 
important  branch  of  industry ;  and  another  was  for 
the  establishment  of  standard  weights  and  measures 
throughout  the  kingdom.  These,  and  one  other 
enactment  to  mitigate  the  severity  of  forfeiture  upon 
wrecks,  which  in  former  times  were  held  in  all  cases 
to  belong  to  the  crown,  are  the  only  legislative  im- 
provements of  any  consequence  that  were  made 
during  this  reign  ; — a  small  recompense,  indeed,  to 
the  people  whose  treasures  were  so  lavishly  squan- 


330  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

dered  upon  wars  from  which  they  did  not  reap  the 
remotest  benefit. 

It  is  not  until  the  moral  influence  of  the  middle 
classes  rises  to  at  least  an  equality  with  that  of  the 
aristocracy,  that  any  country  can  attain  a  state  of 
commercial  prosperity.  The  mechanical  improve- 
ments, the  economy,  the  energy  and  perseverance, 
which  are  required  to  develop  the  national  resources, 
always  originate  with  the  unprivileged  many.  In 
the  reign  of  Richard,  the  influence  of  this  class  was 
altogether  insignificant.  Peaceful  pursuits  were 
considered  incompatible  with  the  character  and  pre- 
tensions of  knighthood  and  gentility.  War  was  the 
only  profession  which  the  descendants  of  noble  houses 
could  adopt  as  their  own,  and,  therefore,  we  need 
not  be  surprised  to  find  the  history  of  the  times 
rather  a  chronicle  of  battles  lost  and  won,  than  a 
sober  record  of  the  progress  of  civilisation.  To 
Europe,  thus  teeming  with  the  elements  of  discord,  a 
convenient  field  for  those  fiery  spirits  who  could  not 
have  remained  contented  at  home  was  found  in  Pa- 
lestine. The  superfluities  of  each  generation  of  young 
and  ambitious  soldiers  were  despatched  to  fight  the 
battles  of  the  cross  against  the  Saracens,  to  gain,  if 
they  could,  both  laurels  and  land  in  the  heart  of  the 
holy  territory — to  ravage  Asia  and  Africa,  but  not  to 
return  home.  The  crusades  have  often  been  desig- 
nated as  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  human 
folly  and  fanaticism  upon  record,  but,  as  we  think,  er- 
roneously. There  was  as  much  diplomacy  in  Europe 
then  as  now;  only,  perhaps,  the  old  views  were 
broader  and  their  operation  less  intricate  than  the  new. 

Following  out  this  view  of  the  question,  it  will 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  331 

not  excite  wonder  that  the  stipulated  treaty  for  three 
years  between  the  Christians  and  Saracens  was 
rather  an  unpopular  than  a  favourite  measure,  and 
that  in  a  great  degree  it  deranged  the  calculations  of 
the  Roman  court,  who,  as  we  previously  remarked, 
held  the  strings  which  could  set  every  kingdom  of 
Christendom  in  motion.  No  excuse,  however,  could 
be  found  during  the  first  year  for  its  violation.  Both 
Saladin  and  Henry  of  Champagne  adhered  scrupu- 
lously to  the  conditions  of  the  treaty;  and  this  mutual 
good  understandingmight  eventually  have  ripened  into 
a  lasting  peace,  had  not  the  death  of  the  sultan  inter- 
vened. This  greatest  of  the  Eastern  princes  expired 
at  Damascus  within  a  year  after  the  departure  of  Ri- 
chard, Imving  previously  divided  his  enormous  terri- 
tories among  his  twelve  sons.  This  was  a  most  unfor- 
tunate partition,  as  it  metamorphosed  one  mighty 
empire,  powerful  enough  to  have  set  the  world  at 
defiance,  into  twelve  petty  states,  liable  to  the  attacks 
of  every  enemy,  and  also  to  disssentions  among  them- 
selves. The  military  Saracen  chiefs  were  not  blind 
to  the  probable  consequences,  and  the  great  majority 
declared  themselves  in  favour  of  Malek-al-Adel  or 
Saphadin,  who  was  only  second  in  conduct  and 
valour  to  his  illustrious  brother.  This  movement,  of 
course,  was  followed  by  a  civil  war,  in  which,  how- 
ever, Henry  of  Champagne  took  no  part,  from 
feelings  highly  honourable  to  himself.  But  the 
princes  of  Europe,  who  cared  not  one  straw  for 
treaties,  thought  this  an  excellent  opportunity  to 
overrun  Palestine,  and  accordingly,  with  the  sanction 
of  the  pope,  a  great  expedition  set  out  for  Germany. 
This  crusade  was  honoured  by  the  presence  of  queen 


332  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

Margaret,  first  the  wife  of  prince  Henry,  Richard's 
eldest  brother,  and  afterwards  of  Bela  of  Hungary. 
She  announced  her  intention  of  passing  the  remainder 
of  her  days  in  Palestine,  and  kept  her  word.  AVith 
the  exception  of  some  few  Italians,  this  crusade  was 
confined  to  Germany,  and  neither  the  French  nor 
the  English  were  engaged.  Philip  thought  it  useless, 
considering  his  former  precipitate  retreat,  to  affect  any 
desire  to  join ;  and  Richard,  though  he  still  continued 
to  wear  the  cross,  had  not  yet  forgotten  the  dissen- 
tions  of  his  old  army,  and  his  unfortunate  journey 
home.  To  the  entreaties  of  the  emperor  Henry,  who 
addressed  him  on  the  subject  from  Messina,  he  re- 
plied in  a  direct  negative,  excusing  himself  on  account 
of  the  unsettled  state  of  his  affairs  in  Normandy;  but 
his  remark  to  a  friend  was  more  significant :  "  The 
emperor  is  my  very  good  friend,  but  I  care  not  how 
little  more  I  see  of  his  housekeeping." 

The  entrance  of  the  Germans  into  the  Saracen 
territory  put  an  end  to  the  truce,  and  Henry  of 
Champagne  found  himself  compelled  to  head  an 
army  whose  assistance  he  neither  asked  nor  required. 
But  ere  a  blow  was  struck,  this  young  and  excellent 
nobleman  was  no  more.  The  balcony  on  which  he 
stood  to  review  the  Christian  forces  as  they  marched 
out  of  Acre  gave  way,  and  Henry  was  killed  by  the 
fall.  His  death  was  followed  by  that  of  the  em- 
peror at  Messina.  While  on  his  deathbed,  he  sent 
to  Richard,  with  an  offer  of  compensation  for  the 
sum  exacted  in  the  name  of  ransom,  either  in  land 
or  money ;  but  before  the  messenger,  who  happened 
to  be  the  bishop  of  Bath,  could  communicate  with 
the  king,  the  emperor  died.  As  he  had  been  so- 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  333 

lemnly  excommunicated  on  account  of  his  iniquitous 
behaviour,  Celestine,  in  spite  of  the  representations 
of  the  clergy  of  Messina,  refused,  in  pointed  terms, 
to  allow  the  hody  to  be  placed  in  hallowed  ground, 
until  Richard  should  signify  his  assent,  and  unless 
the  whole  amount  of  the  ransom  were  repaid.  This 
last  article  was  never  fulfilled,  though  no  doubt 
promised  by  his  family,  as  the  burial  at  length 
took  place.  Frederick,  his  son,  was  crowned  king  of 
Sicily,  an  island  rather  conquered  by  English  gold 
than  by  German  valour,  and  with  help  of  the 
same  material  the  duke  of  Austria  constructed  the 
walls  of  Vienna.  The  succession  to  the  vacant  im- 
perial throne  was  a  subject  of  much  interest.  Two 
competitors  came  forward,  in  the  persons  of  Otho, 
nephew  of  Richard,  and  Philip  of  Suabia,  brother 
of  the  late  emperor.  The  king  of  France,  out  of 
enmity  to  the  house  of  Plantagenet,  used  all  his 
influence  to  secure  the  election  of  the  latter;  but  the 
pope  sided  with  Otho,  and  gained  the  support  of 
most  of  the  German  princes.  Richard  was  sum- 
moned, as  king  of  Provence,  to  attend  the  diet  at 
Cologne,  but  did  not  appear  in  person;  nevertheless 
Otho  was  elected  emperor. 

The  obituary  of  distinguished  individuals  in  this 
year  was  very  great.  Pope  Celestine,  the  best  of 
Richard's  friends,  and  a  man  of  excellent  character, 
died  at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety  years,  having 
retained  his  faculties  to  the  last,  and  was  succeeded 
by  Innocent  III.  The  influence  of  the  new  pontiff 
was  first  employed  in  England  to  remove  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  of  whom  he  was  jealous,  from, 
his  oflice  of  justiciary.  This  he  did  by  admonishing 


334  'THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP 

him  that  the  tenure  of  such  a  temporal  dignity  was 
incompatible  with  his  duties  as  a  churchman,  and 
Hubert  resigned  without  a  murmur.  His  successor 
was  Geoflry  Fitzpierre,  formerly  justice  of  the  king's 
court,  under  whose  administration  the  burdens  laid 
upon  the  people  were  grievously  increased.  Under 
him,  too,  the  Forest-laws,  with  all  their  terrible 
penalties,  which  Henry  II.  had  mitigated,  were 
revived  and  put  in  force.  The  new  justiciary,  how- 
ever, was  by  no  means  deficient  in  ability  or  valour, 
of  which  he  gave  a  signal  proof  by  suppressing  a 
dangerous  insurrection  in  Wales,  headed  by  Gwen- 
wynwyn,  lord  of  Powis. 

The  truce  between  England  and  France  expired 
in  the  course  of  the  year  1198;  and  for  some  time 
previous,  both  kings  made  active  preparation  for 
the  renewal  of  hostilities.  Richard  felt  that  a  pro- 
tracted war  was  far  more  injurious  to  him  than  to 
his  rival,  and  that  his  authority  in  Normandy  was 
sapped  by  these  perpetual  disturbances.  He,  there- 
fore, was  most  desirous  to  strike  some  decisive  blow 
which  might  cripple  the  energies  of  France,  and 
force  her  king  to  agree  to  the  terms  of  a  general 
peace.  This  he  expected  to  do  by  the  assistance  of 
his  allies,  the  counts  of  Flanders  and  Champagne, 
to  whom  he  was  extremely  liberal ;  and  some  of  the 
French  nobility  now  followed  their  example,  and 
entered  into  a  league  offensive  and  defensive  with 
him.  The  principal  of  these  were  the  duke  of  Lou- 
vaine,  and  the  counts  of  Bologne,  Perche,  and  St. 
Giles,  all  powerful  and  esteemed  noblemen,  whose 
defection  was  in  every  way  an  irreparable  loss  to 
Philip.  The  count  of  Flanders  began  the  war  by 


RICHARD   THE   FIRST.  335 

marching  into  Artois,  and  reducing  St.  Omer. 
Philip  did  not  attempt  to  arrest  his  progress,  but 
made  reprisals,  by  ravaging  the  frontiers  of  Nor- 
mandy. The  hostile  armies  met  in  a  plain  between 
Gamagcs,  a  castle  of  Richard's,  and  Yernun,  which 
belonged  to  his  adversary.  After  a  short  engage- 
ment, the  French  army  were  entirely  routed,  and  fled 
to  Vernun,  pursued  by  the  victorious  English. 
From  Yernun  Philip  retired  to  Mantes,  where  he 
collected  his  scattered  forces,  whilst  Richard,  follow- 
ing up  his  good  fortune,  invested  and  took  the  im- 
portant fortress  of  Courcelles.  Before  the  news  of 
its  capture  was  communicated  to  Philip,  he  had 
advanced  to  its  relief,  and  most  unexpectedly  was 
met  by  the  English  army  on  the  way  to  Gisors. 
The  field  was  fair  and  open,  the  parties  well  matched 
in  point  of  strength  and  numbers  ;  so  that  a  better 
opportunity  for  deciding  the  great  national  quarrel 
could  not  have  been  found.  The  conflict  was  main- 
tained for  a  long  time  with  exceeding  obstinacy; 
both  kings  were  there  in  person,  and  encouraged 
their  followers  by  word  and  example ;  but  an  im- 
petuous charge,  led  by  Richard,  who  bore  three 
knights  from  their  saddles  with  a  single  spear,  threw 
the  French  into  confusion,  and  finally  into  flight. 
The  routed  army,  with  the  victors  at  their  heels, 
took  the  road  to  Gisors ;  but  the  bridge  over  the 
Ethe  was  not  strong  enough  to  sustain  the  weight 
of  the  fugitives,  and  broke  down  in  the  midst. 
Philip,  with  many  of  his  knights,  was  immersed 
in  the  stream.  The  devotion  of  his  followers  saved 
the  life  and  liberty  of  their  monarch ;  but  all  the 
French  chivalry  were  not  so  fortunate.  Upwards 


336  THE    LIFE   AND   TIMES    OF 

of  thirty  nobles  and  knights  perished  in  the  waters, 
a  hundred  and  fifty  were  taken  prisoners,  besides 
an  immense  number  of  inferior  rank.  The  whole 
stares  and  baggage  of  the  French  likewise  fell  into 
the  hands  of  Richard. 

This  was  the  most  important  action  of  the  whole 
war,  and  may  be  looked  upon  as  the  decisive  battle ; 
for  although  hostilities  were  not  immediately  ended, 
and  some  places  of  minor  importance  were  after- 
wards taken  on  the  bounds  of  Normandy  and 
France,  such  demonstrations  were  made  merely  in 
the  way  of  petty  reprisal,  and  seem  to  have  been, 
so  far  as  England  was  concerned,  a  kind  of  private 
speculation  of  Marchades,  captain  of  the  Brabanters, 
whose  genius  was  peculiarly  fitted  for  such  preda- 
tory excursions.  The  nobility  of  both  kingdoms 
were  earnestly  desirous  that  peace  should  be  con- 
cluded ;  and  the  new  pontiff,  Innocent,  ambitious  of 
more  fame  than  his  predecessors  by  the  establish- 
ment of  another  crusade,  which  this  time  should  fix 
the  boundary  of  the  Latin  empire,  not  at  the  Jordan 
or  the  mountains  of  Bethanopolis,  but  at  the  Eu- 
phrates and  the  Arabian  frontier,  despatched  his 
cardinal  legate,  Peter  of  .Capua,  to  mediate  between 
the  contending  powers,  and  engage,  if  possible,  their 
aid  in  the  accomplishment  of  so  glorious  a  work. 
It  was  not  difficult  to  persuade  Philip  and  Richard 
to  yield  their  consent  to  a  peace,  of  which  the  prin- 
cipal terms  were  these,  that  all  the  Norman  posses- 
sions held  by  the  former  should,  with  the  solitary 
exception  of  Gisors  (and  for  that  an  equivalent  was 
granted),  be  restored  to  England.  That  the  treaty 
should  be  cemented  by  the  union  of  Louis,  the 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  337 

dauphin,  with  Blanche,  daughter  of  the  king  of 
Castille,  and  niece  of  Richard ;  and  that  Philip 
should  cordially  join  in  supporting  Otho,  whose  right 
to  the  throne  of  Germany  was  still  disputed  by 
another  competitor.  But  even  on  this  occasion,  when 
all  past  animosities  ought  to  have  been  forgotten  in 
the  dawn  of  the  newly-riveted  peace,  the  king  of 
France  was  malignant  enough  to  revive  the  domestic 
jealousy  which  formerly  existed  between  Richard 
and  his  brother,  but  which  subsequent  events  and 
the  amended  behaviour  of  John  had  gone  far  to 
obliterate  from  the  recollection  of  both.  Philip 
declared  that  the  prince  had  privately  entered  into 
a  league  with  him  for  the  separation  of  the  Norman 
provinces  from  England — that  during  the  whole  of 
the  late  wars  they  had  maintained  a  secret  corres- 
pondence ;  and  in  proof  of  this  allegation,  he  ex- 
hibited a  document,  by  which  John  owned  the  king 
of  France  as  his  feudal  superior,  in  case  the  disunion 
of  the  Continental  territories  should  be  effected  by 
his  means.  Richard  was  poignantly  mortified  at 
this  cruel  intelligence,  and,  acting  on  the  first  im- 
pulse, deprived  his  brother  of  all  the  lands  in 
England  and  Normandy  which  he  held  of  the 
crown.  John,  who  in  this  instance  was  certainly 
guiltless,  although  his  former  conduct  had  been  such 
as  to  give  a  strong  colour  to  the  accusation,  demanded 
to  know  the  cause  of  this  disgrace  and  injury,  and 
on  being  informed  of  the  particulars  disclosed  by 
Philip,  not  only  denied  them  utterly,  but  sent  a 
challenge  to  the  king  of  France,  claiming  to  be 
allowed  the  proof  of  his  own  innocence  and  the 
falsehood  of  the  other,  by  combat,  either  in  person 
z 


3,38  THE    LIFE    AND    TIMES   OP 

or  by  deputy.  As  Philip  did  not  venture  to  com- 
ply, or  even  to  notice  the  message,  which  by  law 
and  custom  he  was  bound  to  do,  Richard  became 
convinced  of  his  treachery,  and  restored  the  for- 
feited estates  to  John,  with  the  assurance  of  more 
confidence  than  before. 

Immediately  after  this  event,  Richard  was  called 
into  Aquitaine,  and  from  that  province  he  never 
returned.  It  has  been  the  fate  of  many  of  the  greatest 
warriors  in  ancient  and  in  modern  times  to  perish 
in  such  causes  as  we,  enamoured  of  their  former 
glory,  would  call  unworthy  and  vile.  Alexander 
died  of  a  drunken  debauch  ;  Hannibal,  a  hunted 
fugitive,  by  poison  ;  Pompey,  by  the  dagger  of  the 
assassin.  Even  so  did  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion,  the 
greatest  monarch,  as  well  as  the  bravest  soldier  of 
his  age,  who  had  ridden  unharmed  and  always  vic- 
torious through  a  hundred  fields  of  battle — whose 
opponents  were  sultans,  emperors,  and  kings, — perish 
at  last  in  an  obscure  brawl  with  an  obscurer  vassal, 
and  by  the  hand  of  a  common  peasant.  The  manner 
of  his  death  was  this. 

Vidomar,  viscount  of  Limoges,  had  discovered  a 
buried  treasure  of  gold  and  jewels  within  his  own 
land,  and  on  this  being  claimed  for  the  king,  to 
whom  such  waifs  of  right  belonged,  refused  to  part 
with  more  than  a  very  small  share.  The  deposit 
was  probably  considerable,  else  Vidomar  would 
hardly  have  ventured  to  dispute  the  orders  of  his 
sovereign  ;  but  whether  it  was  so  or  not,  Richard 
determined  to  make  himself  master  of  the  whole,  and 
to  establish  his  rights  by  force.  From  the  report 
of  the  country,  he  was  led  to  believe  that  the  trea- 


RICHARD    THE    FIRST.  339 

sure  was  lodged  within  the  castle  of  Chaluz,  a  fortress 
belonging  to  Vidomar,  and  thither  he  marched  along 
with  the  Brabanters.  It  is  said  that  the  garrison 
offered  to  surrender  the  place  on  condition  that  they 
should  be  allowed  to  retire  unmolested,  and  that 
Richard  replied  he  would  grant  no  terms  to  thieves 
and  rebels,  but  would  take  the  castle  by  storm  and 
hang  every  man  of  them  above  the  gate.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  he  was  much  incensed  against  the 
people  of  Limoges,  who  had  rebelled  against  his  au- 
thority before ;  and  it  is  quite  possible  that  he  used 
such  a  threat,  and  even  intended  to  carry  it  into 
execution.  The  garrison,  thus  cut  off  from  hope, 
prepared  to  defend  themselves  to  the  utmost,  and 
mounted  such  engines  as  they  possessed  upon  the 
walls.  As  Richard,  accompanied  by  Marchades, 
rode  round  the  fortress  in  his  usual  fearless  manner 
to  spy  out  the  weakest  point  for  the  assault,  he  was 
marked  from  the  battlement  by  a  young  archer  whom 
some  call  Bertrand  de  Gourdun,  and  others  Peter 
Basil.  This  man  watched  his  opportunity,  and, 
selecting  a  moment  when  the  king  was  dismounted 
and  directly  opposed  to  his  aim,  discharged  a  bolt 
from  his  cross-bow,  and  transfixed  the  left  arm  of 
Richard  just  beneath  the  shoulder.  The  injury  was 
so  serious,  that  Co3ur-de-Lion,  finding  himself  wax- 
ing faint,  regained  his  horse  with  difficulty  and 
rode  back  to  his  tent,  previously,  however,  enjoining 
Marehades  instantly  to  commence  the  assault.  This 
commission  the  stout  Brabanter  was  not  slow  to 
execute ;  for  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours  the  castle 
was  taken,  when  every  man  of  the  garrison  except 
Bertrand,  who  shot  the  fatal  bolt,  was  hanged  over 
z  2 


340  THE   LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

the  gate.  While  the  conflict  lasted,  Richard  would 
not  permit  his  wound  to  be  examined,  but  lay  on 
his  couch  listening  with  savage  sternness  to  the  cries 
of  the  combatants  and  din  of  battle.  When  all  was 
over,  he  allowed  the  surgeon  of  Marchades'  band,  a 
rude  operator  at  best,  but  the  only  one  near,  to 
proceed  to  the  extraction  of  the  arrow.  This  was 
so  clumsily  done,  that  the  shaft  came  away,  leaving 
the  iron  head  buried  in  the  flesh  :  an  incision  became 
necessary,  which  caused  the  royal  patient  much  pain, 
and  brought  on  speedy  gangrene.  Richard  felt  that 
his  last  hour  was  come;  but  as  he  never  had  dreaded 
the  face  of  living  man,  so  now  he  quailed  not  at  the 
approach  of  death.  With  the  utmost  calmness  and 
composure  he  proceeded  to  settle  his  worldly  affairs ; 
nominated  his  brother  John  as  his  successor  in  pre- 
ference to  Arthur,  whose  tender  years  and  inexpe- 
rience were  not  adequate  to  the  task  of  ruling 
England  and  Normandy  in  such  perilous  times 
and  when  menaced  by  so  formidable  a  neighbour 
as  Philip,  and  he  further  ordered  all  present  to 
take  an  oath  of  fealty  to  him  who  in  a  few  hours 
must  be  their  king.  Three  fourths  of  his  treasure, 
likewise,  he  bequeathed  to  John,  and  ordered  the 
remainder  to  be  distributed  among  his  old  servants 
and  the  poor.  To  Otho  emperor  of  Germany  he  left 
his  jewels.  These  dispositions  being  made,  he  sent 
for  a  priest  and  confessed  himself  with  much  devo- 
tion, and  then  ordered  Bertrand  de  Gourdun  to  be 
led  into  his  presence.  The  young  man,  who  expected 
no  mercy  and  had  resigned  himself  to  his  fate,  bore 
an  intrepid  front,  and  boldly  met  the  still  keen 
glance  of  the  dying  monarch. — "  What  harm  had 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  341 

I  done  to  thee,"  said  Richard,  "•  that  thou  hast  taken 
my  life  ? "  "  You  slew  my  father  and  my  two 
brothers  with  your  own  hand,"  replied  the  youth  ; 
"  and  you  would  have  slain  me  also.  Do  your  worst, 
and  put  me  to  what  tortures  you  please.  Willingly 
would  I  suffer  far  more  than  you  can  inflict,  since 
you,  the  cause  of  so  much  misery  and  wretchedness, 
have  received  your  death-blow  from  my  hand." 
Intrepidity,  even  in  his  bitterest  foe,  was  never  lost 
upon  Richard  :  "  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  I  forgive 
you  my  death  ;  let  him  go,  but  not  empty-handed ; 
— give  him  a  hundred  pieces,  and  free  him  of 
these  chains."  Bertrand  de  Gourdun  left  the  tent ; 
but  ere  he  had  taken  ten  steps,  a  heavy  hand  was 
laid  upon  his  shoulder,  and  the  deep  voice  of  Mar- 
chades  whispered  the  death-warrant  in  his  ear.  The 
generosity  of  Coeur-de-Lion  was  in  vain ;  for  no 
sooner  had  his  brave  soul  gone  to  its  account,  than 
the  Brabanters  seized  upon  their  victim,  and  put  him 
to  a  cruel  and  ignominious  death.  Meanwhile  those 
stern  warriors  stood  around  the  bed  and  saw  their 
chieftain  die.  No  wife,  no  sister,  no  brother,  was 
there  to  do  the  last  kind  offices  and  close  the  eyes 
for  ever.  Far  away  from  all  whom  he  had  loved  in 
life,  surrounded  only  by  a  band  of  rude  and  savage 
mercenaries,  the  lion-hearted  Richard  expired. 

The  day  of  his  death  was  the  sixth  of  April  1 199, 
the  tenth  year  of  his  reign,  and  the  forty-second  of 
his  age.  In  compliance  with  his  last  instructions, 
his  heart  was  sent  to  Rouen,  and  his  body  laid  beside 
his  father's  at  Fontevraud. 


342  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES   OP 

It  is  a  serious  task  to  meddle  with  the  character 
of  the  dead.  To  heap  indiscriminate  eulogy  upon 
them  is  worse  than  to  flatter  the  living — to  slander 
them  without  a  cause  is  cowardice  without  compare. 
We  should  therefore  feel  much  inclined  to  leave  the 
character  of  Richard  as  it  stands  in  our  pages,  illus- 
trated by  the  detail  of  his  deeds  without  comment, 
were  it  not — we  speak  with  all  humility — that  many 
men  are  too  apt,  in  forming  their  judgment  of  per- 
sonages who,  like  Richard,  belonged  to  an  early  age, 
to  expect  an  individual  perfection  far  ahead  of  the 
social  and  moral  condition  of  the  world  as  it  then 
existed,  and  to  advance  a  more  exalted  standard 
than  was  compatible  with  the  limited  opportunities 
of  the  times.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  for  the 
experience  of  every  year  demonstrates  it,  that  the 
highest  degree  of  such  perfection  can  only  be  attained 
by  man,  both  in  his  general  and  individual  capacity, 
through  a  close  observance  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
Christian  religion.  One  book  we  have,  which,  if 
accurately  followed,  would  be  found  a  far  surer  guide 
even  to  the  statesman  than  the  most  subtile  max- 
ims produced  by  mere  human  intellect ;  and  it  is 
truly  satisfactory  for  all  who  believe  in  the  purity  of 
these  tenets  to  remark,  that  in  every  state  where  reli- 
gion is  cultivated  on  the  broad  basis  of  such  principles, 
the  people  are  not  only  sure  to  advance  in  intellectual 
attainment,  but  also  to  acquire  an  actual  supremacy 
over  others  who  suffer  their  light  to  be  obscured  by 
the  clouds  of  bigotry  and  superstition.  We  assign, 
as  is  most  fitting  and  proper,  the  highest  place  in 
intellectual  dominion  to  those  who  first  broke  the 
chain  of  spiritual  thraldom,  and  revealed  to  a  portion 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  343 

of  Europe  the  long-forgotten  truth,  that  simplicity 
is  the  largest  element  in  the  composition  of  mental 
greatness,  and  that  priestcraft  is,  and  ever  must  be, 
the  worst  enemy  of  freedom.  But  we  would  no 
more,  on  that  account,  think  it  necessary,  in  discuss- 
ing the  characters  of  such  men  as  Eugenius,  Innocent, 
or  Celestine,  to  bring  them  into  comparison  with 
Luther  or  Melancthon,  than  we  would  judge  it 
necessary  to  apply  the  Christian  principles  as  a  test 
to  the  conduct  of  Brutus  or  of  Cicero.  We  cannot 
expect  that  every  man  should  be  in  advance  of  his 
own  age.  The  pioneers  of  civilisation  must  necessa- 
rily be  few ;  they  rank  amongst  the  exceptions  of 
the  exception,  not  of  the  generality  of  their  race;  and 
therefore,  whilst  we  accord  to  them  their  full  meed  of 
honour,  let  us  not  put  their  supremacy  to  so  base  a 
use  as  to  darken  the  lustre  of  their  contemporaries, 
and  still  less  of  their  predecessors. 

Let  us  be  fully  understood.  We  have  no  right  to 
apply  a  higher  standard  to  the  character  of  any  man 
than  that  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  Every  age 
has  its  faults.  Want  of  early  training  and  command 
of  the  passions,  pastimes  which  tended  to  encourage  a 
barbarous  and  savage  feeling,  laxity  of  morals  by 
example  if  not  by  precept,  bigotry  of  the  worst  kind, 
and  revenge  glossed  over  by  the  sophistries  of  ho- 
nour— all  these  did,  more  or  less,  brutalise  mankind 
during  the  existence  of  systematic  chivalry,  and  even 
its  virtues  were  at  best  of  a  questionable  nature.  It 
was  therefore  obviously  impossible  that  men  who 
were  brought  up  under  such  a  system,  whose  very 
civil  conduct  was  regulated  by  loose  and  pernicious 
laws,  could  attain  to  any  high  degree  of  perfection  ; 


344  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

all  that  could  be  expected  from  them  was  abstinence 
from  excess,  and  such  an  adherence  to  their  own 
principles  and  faith  as  would  prove  their  sincerity. 

Following  out  this  doctrine,  we  shall  as  shortly 
as  possible  make  a  few  remarks  upon  the  character 
of  Richard :  and  first  let  us  premise,  that  no  histo- 
rical personage  has  been  more  praised  and  blamed 
by  writers  of  different  nations  and  different  creeds 
than  Cceur-de-Lion.  The  early  English  authors 
represent  him  as  a  model  of  manly  bearing — as  faith- 
ful to  his  word,  true  to  his  friend,  open-hearted, 
generous,  and  brave.  Such  is  the  opinion  of  those 
who  had  the  best  opportunities  of  ascertaining  and 
observing  his  character ;  but  some  subsequent  histo- 
rians, acting  as  we  think  in  diametrical  opposition 
to  the  principle  we  have  endeavoured  to  explain, 
have  stigmatised  him  as  cruel,  deceitful,  and  trea- 
cherous ;  and  one  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say,  that 
"  his  vices,  which  were  numerous,  undisguised,  and 
prominent,  flowed  in  a  ruffled  stream  from  their 
source ;  and  if  he  had  any  seeds  of  virtue,  over- 
whelmed in  the  current,  they  never  sprang  into 
life  *."  These  are  hard  words,  and  are,  in  fact, 
nothing  else  than  the  quintessence  of  such  abuse  as 
the  French  historians  have  always  heaped  upon 
Coeur-de-Lion.  It  is  possible  that  the  fault  may 
be  common  to  every  nation,  and,  indeed,  inseparable 
from  humanity ;  but  we  cannot  help  remarking  that 
the  French  on  all  matters  which  regard  their  country 
in  the  remotest  degree,  do  testify  a  singular  share  of 
self-complacency  and  disingenuousness.  Opposition 
to  France,  even  when  France  was  in  the  height  of 
*  Bt-rington. 


RICHARD   THE    FIRST.  345 

her  wildest  frenzy,  has  always  been  considered  by 
them  as  an  enormous  and  unpardonable  offence. 
The  enmity  between  Richard  and  Philip  was  of 
itself  sufficient  to  blacken  the  English  monarch  in 
their  eyes  ;  and  if  we  are  to  believe  their  testimony, 
he  was  everything  that  was  vicious,  intolerant,  and 
bad.  Not  so  the  Germans.  That  people,  more 
allied  to  us  in  sentiment  than  the  other,  though  not 
less  strictly  national,  do  not  so  readily  permit  their 
prejudices  to  warp  their  judgment.  Their  historians 
have  freely  blamed  the  emperor  Henry  and  the  duke 
of  Austria  for  their  unmanly  and  treacherous  con- 
duct; nor  does  any  historical  personage  figure  in  their 
pages  with  more  renown  than  "  Richard  Lowenherz," 
the  royal  prisoner  of  Durenstein. 

Human  characters  may  not  unaptly  be  compared 
to  pictures  whereon  various  masses  of  colour  are  dis- 
posed. Some,  though  not  the  most  vivid,  are  blended 
together  so  as  to  produce  exquisite  harmony — some 
are  made  up  of  the  extremes  of  light  aud  shade,  and 
these  dazzle  the  eye  of  the  spectator.  Coeur-de- 
Lion  belonged  to  the  latter  class.  In  him  there  was 
no  medium.  From  his  father  he  inherited  a  hasty 
temper,  which  early  independence  served  rather  to 
increase  than  restrain.  Hence  he  was  essentially 
the  child  of  impulse,  proud  and  passionate  of  con- 
trol ;  yet  at  the  bottom  of  all  his  vehemence  there 
lay  a  fund  of  excellence  and  good  sense  which  ever 
and  anon  appeared,  and  which  needed  only  circum- 
stance to  be  more  fully  developed.  There  was 
nothing  mean  or  vindictive  in  his  character.  We 
have  seen,  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  history, 
how  readily  he  yielded  to  the  wishes  of  the  cm- 


346  THE   LIFE   AND   TIMES   OP 

saders,  and  offered  his  cordial  support  to  Conrad, 
when  experience  had  opened  his  eyes  to  the  inef- 
ficiency of  Lusignan ; — we  have  seen  how,  in  spite  of 
repeated  provocation,  he  lavished  his  love  and  favour 
upon  his  brother  John,  and  forgave  his  manifold 
offences  almost  as  soon  as  committed ; — we  have 
likewise  seen  in  what  good  part  he  took  the  remon- 
strances of  the  bishop  of  Durham,  and  even  par- 
doned the  man  from  whom  he  received  his  death- 
blow :  and  these  surely  are  not  the  traits  of  a 
revengeful  tyrant.  The  case  is  very  different  as 
regards  Philip  of  France,  with  whom  the  enmity  was 
mutual;  neither  is  a  national  quarrel  to  be  con- 
founded with  the  actions  of  a  king  in  a  merely  pri- 
vate capacity. 

The  conduct  of  Richard  towards  his  father  is  a  far 
more  serious  charge,  inasmuch  as  it  involves  the 
double  question  of  disobedience  towards  a  parent  and 
rebellion  against  a  sovereign.  We  have  already,  in 
that  part  of  our  narrative  which  treats  of  these 
domestic  dissensions,  ventured  to  indicate  an  opinion 
on  this  difficult  subject ;  and  we  may  here  again 
remark,  that  the  very  best-informed  of  the  writers 
of  the  time  touch  so  mysteriously  upon  the  causes  of 
those  disputes,  that  the  real  truth,  and  consequently 
the  amount  of  blame  attributable  to  each  party,  can- 
not now  be  correctly  ascertained.  Enough,  however, 
is  said  to  convince  us  that  neither  father  nor  sons  were 
guiltless;  and  by  following  out  a  very  just  and  natural 
rule,  we  are  inclined  to  bestow  more  censure  upon 
the  latter,  since  no  errors  which  the  first  could  com- 
mit in  his  private  capacity  ought  to  justify  a  crime 
like  rebellion,  especially  in  those  so  nearly  connected 


RICHARD    THE   FIRST.  347 

with  the  crown.  There  was,  however,  this  differ- 
ence between  Richard  and  his  brothers, — that  the 
conduct  of  the  last  was  wholly  unprovoked,  and 
arose  from  their  own  uncontrolled  ambition ;  whilst 
Richard  had  certainly  some  show  for  his  resistance, 
in  the  refusal  of  Henry  to  deliver  his  affianced  bride, 
even  though  that  refusal  should  be  ascribed  to  some 
other  cause  than  the  suspected  one,  and  in  the  attempt 
to  set  aside  his  succession  to  the  throne  in  favour  of 
a  younger  brother. 

Richard  has  been  often  and  justly  blamed  for  his 
inattention  to  the  interests  of  his  subjects.  But  we 
must  remember,  while  we  fully  concur  in  the  doc- 
trine that  a  monarch  holds  his  authority  merely 
for  the  good  of  his  people,  and  is  not  justifiable  for 
using  it  in  any  other  way  than  that  most  calculated 
to  promote  their  prosperity,  that  such  ideas,  if  they 
ever  prevailed  before,  were  materially  affected  by 
the  Norman  Conquest.  That  great  event  in  the 
history  of  our  country  was  not  a  revolution,  but 
an  invasion,  in  the  strongest  sense  of  the  word. 
The  new  dynasty  were  compelled  to  maintain  their 
place  by  force  of  arms  ;  and  in  such  circumstances  it 
was  not  to  be  expected  that  the  reciprocal  kindly 
feeling  of  constitutional  king  and  loyal  subjects, 
essentially  based  upon  mutual  support,  could  be 
either  strong  or  cordial.  In  fact,  society  was  then  in 
a  very  singular  state.  The  feudal  power  of  nobility 
was  not  broken;  but  the  crown,  as  in  the  case  of 
Henry,  was  aware  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  re- 
straining it,  and  had  accordingly  struck  some  shrewd 
blows  at  its  foundation.  So  this  huge  phantom  of 


348  THE    LIFE    AND   TIMES    OP 

authority  stood  tottering  between  the  king  and  the 
people,  menacing  each  by  turns,  and  yet  acting  as  an 
effectual  barrier  between  them.  Richard  was  un- 
doubtedly exorbitant  in  his  demands  upon  the  public 
purse.  Personally  he  was  not  a  spendthrift,  and  did 
not  waste  the  money  so  acquired  upon  empty  pa- 
geantry or  mere  sensual  indulgence ;  but  the  wars 
with  France,  to  which  he  was  constantly  challenged 
by  his  restless  and  envious  neighbour,  rendered  such 
exactions  necessary;  unless  Normandy,  at  that  time 
the  brightest  jewel  of  the  British  crown,  was  to  be 
ceded  without  a  struggle  to  a  foreign  power.  Even 
if  Richard  had  the  wish,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
could  have  done  much,  at  least  in  person,  to  ame- 
liorate the  condition  of  his  subjects.  All  internal 
changes  in  the  administration  of  a  country  should 
be  approached  with  extreme  caution ;  for  though  it 
is  easy  to  launch  a  stone  from  the  top  of  a  precipice 
by  the  mere  exertion  of  a  finger,  it  may  baffle  human 
strength  to  arrest  its  progress  when  once  set  in 
motion.  Had  the  barons  combined  against  Richard 
as  they  did  against  his  successor  when  the  granting 
of  Magna  Charta  was  the  result,  how  would  such  a 
movement  have  affected  England,  except  to  cause 
the  probable  loss  of  Normandy,  and  possibly  an 
insular  invasion  ?  No  one  but  a  fool  will  deny  that 
change  is  sometimes  necessary ;  but  it  is  only  in 
peaceful  season?  and  prosperous  times  that  such  a 
task  can  be  attempted  with  safety,  or  brought  to 
conclusion  without  the  chance  of  disastrous  failure. 

As  a  warrior  Richard  is  certainly  entitled  to  rank 
amongst  the  most  distinguished  of  ancient  or   of 


RICHARD    THE  FIRST.  349 

modern  times.  The  field  of  his  exploits  was  indeed 
circumscribed  when  compared  with  that  of  others; 
but  such  as  it  was,  it  offers  to  our  view  as  dazzling 
a  train  of  splendid  successes  as  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of 
king  or  chieftain  to  achieve.  We  cannot — we  dare  not 
bestow  an  unqualified  eulogy  upon  the  warrior,  whose 
highest  trophies  ought,  if  men  were  more  perfect 
than  they  are,  to  be  regarded  as  the  monuments  of 
human  folly  and  crime — the  sepulchres  reared  above 
a  field  of  battle,  to  remind  the  passer-by  how  much 
that  was  fair  and  beautiful  and  young  perished  in 
one  hour  in  the  full  bloom  of  their  existence,  and 
were  laid  in  their  mother  earth  ere  yet  her  arms 
were  ready  to  receive  them.  But  yet,  while  we 
grieve  that  so  dark  an  infatuation  should  have 
existed,  and  that  men  should  so  far  have  darkened 
the  light  of  reason  as  to  rival — nay,  to  exceed 
the  beasts  of  the  forest  in  insatiable  appetite  for 
blood,  let  us  not  forget  that  we,  in  modern  times, 
are  not  wholly  exempt  from  the  same  grievous 
stain,  and  that  our  wars,  when  the  full  blaze  of 
heavenly  light  is  streaming  around,  will,  if  there 
be  any  truth  in  the  Gospel,  be  visited  with  a 
severer  retribution  than  those  which  originated 
from  error,  and  professed,  like  the  crusades,  some 
motive  which  might  be  attributed  to  a  fond  but 
devotional  error.  We  are  not  Utopian  in  our  own 
views ;  nor  do  we  think  that  as  society  is  pre- 
sently constituted,  with  so  many  conflicting  in- 
terests abroad,  that  an  appeal  to  arms  will  never 
more  be  made ;  but  we  do  trust  and  believe  that, 
in  his  own  good  time,  the  great  Father  of  all  will 


350      LIFE  AND  TIMES  OP  RICHARD  THE  FIRST. 

so  dispose  the  hearts  of  his  children,  that  the  reign 
of  love  and  peace  will  descend  upon  earth,  and 
that  the  contests  of  nations,  and  all  their  consequent 
misery  and  woe,  will  be,  to  the  then  purified  world, 
as  much  a  subject  of  wonder  and  of  pity,  as  the  cru- 
sades are  now  to  us,  who  live  beyond  the  sphere  of 
religious  fanaticism  and  folly. 


NOTES. 


NOTE  A.     Page  146. 

Letter  of  John  Thiery,  eleventh  grand-master  of  the  Temple, 
written  after  the  Battle  of  Tiberias,  A.  D.  1187,  and  ad- 
dressed to  the  absent  Brethren — Translated  from  the  Latin. 

"  Brother  Thiery,  styled  grand-master  of  the  poor- 
house  of  the  Temple,  and  the  reduced  and  almost  anni- 
hilated convent  of  the  Brethren,  to  all  preceptors  and 
others  of  the  order  to  whom  these  letters  may  come — 
health  and  grace  in  Him  whom  sun  and  moon  adore. 
Brethren  !  neither  by  letters,  nor  by  words,  is  it  possible 
for  us,  in  full,  to  express  to  you  the  terrible  calamities, 
which  the  wrath  of  God,  kindled  by  our  sins,  hath  at 
present  heaped  upon  us. 

"  The  Saracens  being  collected  in  prodigious  numbers, 
began  to  enter  the  territories  of  our  Christian  people. 
We,  with  the  intent  to  drive  them  back,  assembled  our 
troops,  and  marched  against  them  on  the  eighth  day 
after  the  feast  of  the  holy  apostles  Peter  and  Paul,  and 
directed  our  course  towards  Tiberias,  which  place,  with 
the  exception  of  the  castle,  they  had  already  taken. 

"  There  the  enemy  encountered  us  amongst  the  rocks, 
and  fell  upon  us  so  fiercely,  that  they  took  our  king  and 


352  NOTES. 

the  sacred  Cross,  and  slew  the  whole  of  our  army.  Of 
the  Brethren  we  are  firmly  assured  that  two  hundred 
and  thirty  were  beheaded  on  the  same  day,  beside  those 
sixty  who  fell  on  the  first  of  May.  The  count  of  Tripoli, 
the  lord  Reginald  of  Sidon,  the  lord  Balian  and  ourselves, 
escaped  with  difficulty  from  that  most  disastrous  field. 

"  After  this  the  Heathen,  being  drunk  with  the  blood 
of  our  Christians,  straightway  marched  with  their  whole 
force  against  Acre,  which  city  they  took  by  storm,  and 
ravaged  the  whole  country  around ;  Jerusalem,  Ascalon, 
Tyre,  and  Berytus,  are  now  the  only  cities  left  to  us  and 
to  Christendom.  Nor,  since  almost  all  the  inhabitants 
are  slain,  can  we,  in  anywise,  preserve  even  these,  with- 
out God's  assistance  and  yours,  and  that  right  speedily. 
Even  now  the  Saracens  are  encamped  before  Tyre,  and 
cease  not  by  day  or  night  to  attack  the  walls ;  and  so 
great  is  the  number  of  their  swarms,  that  like  ants  they 
cover  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth  from  Tyre  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  even  as  far  as  Gaza. 

"  Therefore,  brethren,  we  charge  you  that  with  your 
utmost  speed,  ye  hasten  to  the  relief  of  us,  and  to  the 
aid  of  the  Christian  cause  in  the  East,  which  at  this 
moment  is  in  the  utmost  jeopardy ;  so  that  by  the  help 
of  God,  and  by  the  valour  of  your  brotherhood,  we  may 
yet  sustain  and  preserve  our  remaining  cities.  Farewell." 
Dupuy — Histoirede  f  Ordre  Militaire  des  Templiers. 


NOTE  B.     Page  190. 

The  crusaders,  after  this  wholesale  murder  of  their 
captives,  ripped  the  dead  bodies  open,  in  search  of  gold  and 
jewels  which  might  have  been  wallowed.  Hoveden  states 
that  the  disgusting  quest  was  successful : — "  Numerus 
autem  interfectorum  erat  quinque  niillia  Paganorum,  quos 


NOTES.  353 

omnes  Christian!  eviscaverunt,  et  aurum  et  argentum 
multum  invenerunt  in  visceribus  eorum."  But  this  was 
not  their  only  object,  for  he  adds,  immediately,  that  they 
extracted  the  galls  of  the  Saracens  for  medicinal  pur- 
poses,— "  et  fel  eorum  usui  medicinal!  servaverunt."  The 
effects  of  this  heathen  medicine  upon  the  Christian  con- 
stitutions are  not  stated,  but  it  is  possible  that  it  acted 
with  the  same  potency  as  mummy,  a  drug  which,  so  late 
as  the  times  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  was  in  high  repute 
among  the  learned  faculty.  This  singular  attention  on 
the  part  of  the  crusaders  to  the  interests  of  science,  no 
doubt  gave  rise  to  the  report  that  Richard  and  his  fol- 
lowers were  a  legion  of  cannibals,  who,  failing  the  supply 
of  their  favourite  provision  at  home,  had  projected  an 
expedition  to  Palestine  for  the  purpose  of  battening  upon 
the  Saracens.  True,  there  is  no  proof  that  Saladin  or  his 
followers  evinced  much  terror  for  the  Christian  jaws ;  it 
was  reserved  for  a  troubadour  to  discover  and  celebrate 
this  notable  appetite  of  his  countrymen.  There  exists 
among  the  old  romances  one  entitled  the  Gests  of  Richard 
Coeur-de-Lion,  which  professes  to  give  a  full  and  particu- 
lar account  of  the  achievements  in  the  Holy  Land.  This 
work  is  a  singular  mixture  of  superstition,  absurdity, 
falsehood,  and  fact ;  and  is  otherwise  remarkable  as  re- 
ferring to  a  period  of  history  far  posterior  to  that  of  the 
other  romances,  wherein  king  Arthur,  Guy  of  Warwick, 
Bevis  of  Hamptoun,  sir  Triamour,  sir  Eglamour  of  Ar- 
toys,  and  such  like  fabulous  heroes,  are  celebrated.  It  is 
to  be  hoped  that  Homer  is  more  veracious  in  his  chro- 
nicle of  "  Troy  town,"  than  the  author  of  this  romance, 
else  Achilles  and  Hector,  Priam  and  Agamemnon,  in 
whose  identity  we  have  been  accustomed  to  believe, 
must  fade  away  into  phantoms  of  mere  conjecture. 

According  to  this  romance,  Richard  wras  twice  in  Pales- 
tine, and  it  was  upon  his  return  from  the  first  of  these 

A   A 


354  NOTES. 

expeditions  that  he  was  captured  by  the  "  king  of  Al- 
mayne."  The  account  of  his  second  voyage  to  the  Holy 
Land  is  tolerably  accurate,  and  not  glaringly  inconsistent 
with  history  ;  but  so  soon  as  he  lands  at  Acre,  all  truth  is 
discarded,  and  the  poet  revels  hi  the  wildest  creations  of 
fancy  that  ever  emanated  from  the  brain  of  a  troubadour. 
Richard  fell  sick  at  Acre,  and  his  first  sensation  on  re- 
covery from  the  fever,  was  an  irresistible  longing  for 
pork.  But  neither  pork  nor  pig  were  plentiful  in  Pales- 
tine, and  Richard  might  have  died  unsatisfied,  had  not  a 
sufficient  substitute  been  discovered.  In  the  words  of 
the  romance, — 

An  old  knight  with  Richard  biding 

When  he  heard  of  that  tiding, 

That  the  kingis  wants  were  swyche, 

To  the  steward  he  spake  privilyche. 
"  Our  lord  the  king  is  sick,  I  wis, 
"  After  pork  he  a-longed  is  ; 
"  Ye  may  finde  none  to  selle  ; 
"  No  man  so  hardy  as  him  to  telle  ! 
''  If  he  did,  he  might  dye. 
"  Now  behoves  to  done  as  I  shalle  save. 
"  That  he  wetc  nought  of  that, 
u  Takes  a  Saracen  yonge  and  fatte  ; 
"  In  haste  let  the  thieffe  be  slayne,  . 

"  Opened  and  his  hide  off  flayne  ; 
"  And  sodden,  full  hastily, 
"  With  powder  and  with  spicery, 
"  And  with  saffron  of  good  colour. 
"  When  the  king  feels  thereof  savour, 
"  Wheu  he  has  a  good  taste, 
"  And  eaten  well  a  good  repast, 
"  And  supped  of  the  brewis  a  sup, 
"  Slept  aftere,  and  swet  a  drop, 
"  Thorough  Godis  help  and  my  consail 
"  Soon  he  shall  be  fresh  and  haill." 

The  sooth  to  say,  at  words  few, 

Slain  and  sodden  was  the  heathen  shrew. 

Before  the  king  it  was  forth  brought — 

Quod  his  men,  "  Lord !  we  have  pork  sought ; 


NOTES.  355 

"  Eates  and  suppis  of  the  brewis  sweete 

"  Through  grace  of  Godde  it  shall  be  your  boot !'' 

Before  king  Richard  carff  a  knight, 

He  ate  faster  than  he  carve  might, 

The  king  ate  the  flesh  and  gnew  the  bones, 

And  drunk  well  after  for  the  nonce, 

And  when  he  had  eaten  enough, 

His  folk  them  turned  away,  and  leuch  ! — 

He  la}'  still  and  drew  in  his  arm, 

His  chamberlain  then  wrapped  him  warm. 

He  lay  and  slept  and  swet  a  stund  *, 

And  became  whole  and  sounde, 

King  Richard  clad  him  and  arose 

And  walked  about  hiui  in  the  close. 

Although  boiled  Saracen  agreed  so  well  with  the  royal 
stomach,  his  followers  thought  it  advisable  to  keep  the 
jest  to  themselves,  and  Richard  would  hi  all  probability 
have  remained  ignorant  of  his  kitchen  economy,  had  not 
a  skirmish  with  Saladin  again  awakened  his  appetite. — 
"  Bring  me,"  said  Coaur-de-Lion, 

"  The  head  of  that  ilke  swine 

That  I  of  ate!" 

Quod  the  cook,  "  That  head  I  ne  have." 

Then  said  the  king,  "  So  Godde  me  save, 
"  But  I  see  the  head  of  that  swine 
"  For  sooth  thou  shall  lesen  thine.  " 

The  cook,  save  none  other  mot  be, 

He  brought  the  head  and  let  him  see  : 

He  fell  on  knees,  and  made  a  cry, 
"  Lo  here  the  head  !  my  Lord — mercy ! " 

The  swarte  face  when  the  king  seeth 

His  black  beard  and  white  teeth, 

How  his  lippes  grinned  wide — 
"  What  devil  is  this?  "  the  king  cried, 

And  'gan  to  laugh  as  he  were  wode, 
*'  What !  is  Saracens  flesh  thus  good  ? 
"  That  never  erst,  I  not  wist. 
"  By  Goddes  death,  and  his  up-rist, 
"  Shall  we  never  die  for  default, 
"  While  we  may,  in  any  assault, 

*  Hour. 

AA2 


356  NOTES. 

'  Slee  Saracens,  the  flesh  may  take 

'  And  »eethen,  roSten,  and  do  them  bake, 

'  And  gnawen  their  flesh  to  the  hones  ! 

'  Now  that  I  hare  proved  it  ones, 

4  For  hunger  ere  I  be  woe 

'  I  and  my  folk  shall  eat  moe." 

This  discovery  was  far  too  valuable  to  be  neglected. 
The  other  crusaders  thought  with  much  reason  that  the 
food  which  their  monarch  relished  so  well  would  not 
disgrace  meaner  mouths,  and  when  the  garrison  of  Acre 
surrendered,  the  victors  gloated  upon  their  captives  with 
the  eyes  of  natives  of  New  Zealand.  The  only  restraint 
upon  their  appetites  was  the  promise  of  a  large  ransom 
from  Saladin,  but  as  this  was  not  forthcoming  at  the 
appointed  time,  Richard  again  gave  way  to  his  passion 
for  the  substitute  of  pork.  He  courteously  invited  the 
ambassadors  of  the  sultan  to  dinner,  and  gave  private 
orders  that  the  heads  of  the  principal  prisoners  should 
be  struck  off,  cleansed,  boiled,  and  placed  as  a  particular 
delicacy  before  each  of  his  guests.  The  horror  of  the 
Saracens  at  this  new  display  of  viands  was  great,  but 
greater  still  was  their  astonishment  when  they  beheld 
Richard  fall  furiously  upon  the  head  placed  before  him. — 

Every  man  then  poked  other  ; 
They  said,  "  This  is  the  devils  brother 
"  That  slays  our  men  and  thus  them  eats ! >T 

Richard  at  last  condescended  to  enter  into  the  follow- 
ing explanation,  and  defence  of  cannibalism  : — 

King  Richard  spake  to  an  old  man, 
'  Wendes  home  to  your  soudan  ! 
'  His  melancholic  that  you  abate 
'  And  saves  that  ye  came  too  late, 
'  Too  slowly  was  your  time  yguessed  ; 
'  Ere  ye  came  the  meat  was  dressed, 


NOTES.  557 

"  That  men  shoulden  serve  with  me 

*'  Thus  at  noon  and  my  meynie. 

"Say  him,  it  shall  him  nought  avail, 

"  Though  he  for-bar  us  our  vitail, 

"  Bread,  wine,  flesh,  fish,  salmon  and  conger 

**  Of  us  none  shall  die  with  honger, 

*'  While  we  may  wenden  to  fight, 

"And  slay  the  Saracens  downright, 

"  Wash  the  flesh  and  roast  the  head. 

**  With  one  Saracen,  I  may  well  feed 

"  Well  a  nine  or  a  ten 

"  Of  my  good  Christian  men, 

*'  King  Richard  shall  warrant 

"  There  is  no  flesh  so  nourissunt 

**  Unto  an  Englishman, 

"Partridge,  plover,  heron  ne  swan, 

"  Cow,  ne  ox,  sheep,  ne  swine, 

"  As  the  head  of  a  Sarezyn. 

"  There  he  is  fat,  and  thereto  tender  ; 

"  And  my  men  be  lean  and  slender. 

"  While  any  Saracen  quick  be, 

<l  Livand  now  in  this  Syrie, 

"  For  meat  will  we  nothing  care, 

"  Abouten  feast  we  shall  fare, 

"  And  every  day  we  shall  eat 

"  All  so  many  as  we  may  get, 

"  To  England  will  we  nought  gone 

*'  Till  they  be  eaten  every  one." 

No  wonder  the  Saracens  were  shy  of  approaching 
Richard ! 

Reference  has  been  made  in  the  text  to  the  unpro- 
voked slaughter  of  the  Christian  captives  by  order  of 
Saladin,  as  the  only  excuse  for  the  decapitation  of  the 
garrison.  Even  if  the  testimony  of  Hoveden  and  others 
should  be  considered  as  sufficient  to  establish  this  fact,  we 
might  furnish  a  further  apology  by  referring  the  reader 
to  the  cold-blooded  massacre  of  the  knights  Templars 
after  the  fatal  battle  of  Tiberias,  detailed  at  some  length 
in  the  sixth  chapter  of  this  volume,  but  it  is  far  from 
our  wish  to  extenuate  unnecessary  cruelty.  The  cru- 


358  NOTES. 

saders  themselves  had  afterwards  ample  cause  to  regret 
their  own  barbarity,  for  until  a  negociation  was  opened 
between  Richard  and  Saladin,  every  Christian  captive 
who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  was  put  to  death, 
unless  his  rank  was  such  that  he  could  be  exchanged  for 
an  emir.  Bohadin,  who  kept  a  regular  journal  of  events 
during  this  war,  notes  down  the  daily  occurrence  of  these 
executions,  and  bears  honourable  testimony  to  the  courage 
and  devotion  evinced  by  several  prisoners  at  the  moment 
of  their  deaths.  Possibly  the  extreme  valour  which  we 
have  noticed  as  displayed  by  the  knights,  when  sur- 
rounded by  overwhelming  numbers,  may  be  attributed 
to  their  knowledge  that,  if  taken,  they  would  be  led  to 
instant  death,  and  that  their  only  chance  of  escape  lay 
in  continuing  the  combat  to  the  last.  On  one  occasion, 
according  to  Bohadin,  a  Christian  female  was  taken  pri- 
soner, and  immediately  transferred  to  the  harem  of  the 
sultan. 


NOTE  C.     Page  228. 

The  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  has  passed  from  the 
pages  of  history,  and  figures  in  those  of  romance  almost 
as  frequently  as  the  Wandering  Jew.  Purchas,  Mande- 
ville  and  others  have  given  long  and  detailed  accounts  of 
his  singular  territory  and  power,  and  modern  poets  have 
made  him  the  frequent  hero  of  their  tales.  So  far  as  I 
know,  there  is  no  account  extant  of  the  extinction  or 
dispersion  of  the  Haussassiz,  which  probably  occurred 
during  some  of  the  intestine  convulsions  which  shook 
the  Saracen  empire  in  the  East ;  and  so  this  extraor- 
dinary dynasty  vanished  from  the  sight  of  Europe  as 
suddenly  as  it  appeared.  As  I  have  mentioned  in  the 
text  the  authority  which  the  Ancient  exercised  over  his 


NOTES.  359 

tribe,  I  shall  here  give  an  illustration  in  the  narrative  of 
a  visit  which  Henry  of  Champagne,  when  king  of 
Jerusalem,  paid  to  the  sheikh  at  his  own  particular  de- 
sire. I  quote  from  the  pages  of  Bernard  le  Tresorier, 
a  fluent  and  ingenious,  though  sometimes  inaccurate 
author: — "Le  sire  des  Hassesis  oi  dire  que  le  cuens 
Henri  estoit  en  Erminie,  si  li  manda  en  priant  que  au 
repairier  d'Ermenie  s'en  venist  par  lui,  et  il  lui  en  sau- 
oit  bon  gve;  car  il  le  desiroit  mult  a  veoir.  Le  cuens  li 
manda  qu'il  iroit  volentiers,  et  il  si  fist.  Quant  le  sire 
des  Hassesis  sot  que  le  cuens  venoit,  il  ala  a  1'encontre 
et  le  receut  mult  liement  et  a  grant  honor,  et  le  mena 
par  sa  terre  et  par  ses  chastiaus,  tant  qu'il  vint  un  jor 
devant  un  chastel.  En  eel  chastel  avoit  une  haute  tor ; 
sur  chacun  crenet  avoit  deux  homes  tous  blans  vestus. 
Li  sira  des  Hassesis  li  dist :  '  Sire,  vos  homes  ne  feroient 
por  TOS  ce  que  li  mien  feroient  por  moi — Sire,  dist-ilce 
puet  bien  estre/  Le  sire  des  Hassesis  s'ecria,  et  deus  de 
ses  homes  qui  sus  les  creniaux  estoient  se  lancierent  a 
val,  et  se  bruissierent  les  cous.  Le  cuens  s'en  mer- 
veilla  mult,  et  dist  vourment  n'avoit-il  home  qui  ce  fist 
por  li.  Cil  dist  au  conte :  '  Sire,  sc  vous  voles,  je  ferai 
tous  ecus  que  vous  vees  \%  sus  sailiir  a  val.'  Le  cuens 
responde  ne  nul,"  &c. — "  The  lord  of  the  Haussassiz 
having  heard  that  the  count  Henry  was  in  Armenia,  sent 
to  him  with  a  request,  that  on  his  return  from  that  country 
he  would  visit  his  dominions,  assuring  him  of  a  good  re- 
ception, as  he  had  long  wished  to  behold  him.  The  count 
replied,  that  he  would  willingly  do  so,  and  went  accord- 
ingly. When  the  lord  of  the  Haussassiz  heard  of  the 
count's  approach,  he  went  to  meet  him,  received  him  with 
great  affability  and  honour,  and  conducted  him  through 
his  territory  and  fortresses,  until  one  day  they  arrived 
before  a  castle.  This  castle  was  surmounted  by  a  large 
tower,  and  at  each  embrasure  stood  two  men  clothed  all  in 


300  NOTES. 

white.  Then  said  the  lord  of  the  Haussassiz : — '  Sir 
count,  your  men  will  not  do  for  you  what  my  men  will  do 
for  me.' — '  Sir,'  said  the  count,  '  that  may  well  be.' 
Whereupon  the  lord  of  the  Haussassiz  gave  the  word, 
•when  two  of  the  men  who  were  upon  the  tower  leaped 
down,  and  their  necks  were  broken.  The  count  was 
Inuch  amazed  at  this,  and  said,  that  in  truth  he  had  no 
men  who  would  do  the  same  for  him.  Then  said  the 
other,  '  Sir,  if  you  desire  it,  I  will  make  every  one  of 
those  whom  you  see  upon  the  tower  leap  down  in  like 
manner.'  The  count  refused,  and  when  he  had  tarried 
so  long  as  he  listed  in  the  country  of  the  Ancient,  he  took 
his  leave.  The  lord  of  the  Haussassiz  made  him  a  mag- 
nificent present  of  jewels,  appointed  him  an  escort  to  his 
own  country,  and  told  him,  that  in  return  for  the  honour 
he  had  conferred  by  this  visit,  he  would  always  be  his 
ally  ;  and  if  any  nobleman  did  aught  to  displease  him,  he 
prayed  the  count  to  inform  him  thereof,  and  he  would 
cause  the  offender  to  be  slain."  This  is  a  remarkable 
anecdote,  but  by  no  means  improbable,  for  Henry  of 
Champagne  was  both  with  Christians  and  Saracens  the 
most  popular  monarch  that  ever  reigned  in  Syria,  and 
the  fact  of  his  visit  to  the  Ancient  is  otherwise  esta- 
blished. 


NOTE  D.     Page  251. 

This  chivalrous  anecdote  of  Malek  al  Adel  is  recorded 
by  almost  every  historian,  but  Bernard  le  Tresorier  tells 
it  "  with  a  difference :" — "  Salahadin  demanda  a  ses  homes 
porquoi  il  fuioient.  II  distrent  que  le  roi  d'Engleterre 
estoit  arrive  a  Jaffe,  mult  de  ses  homes  occis  et  pris,  et 
le  chastel  rescous.  Salahadin  lor  demanda  ou  il  estoit. 
II  respond  irent,  '  Sire,  v^es  le  la  sus  ce  tertre  tout  £  pie 
avec  ses  homes.' — '  Comment,'  dist  Salahadin, '  est  roi  a 


NOTES.  361 

pie  entre  ses  homes?  il  n'afiert  pas.'  Lors  li  envoia 
Salahadin  un  cheval,  et  encharja  au  message  que  il  li 
deist  que  tel  home  com  il  estoit  ne  deust  pas  estre  a  pie 
entre  ses  homes  en  tel  peril.  Le  serjant  fist  le  com- 
mandement  son  seignor.  Le  roi  Ten  mercia.  Lors  fist 
monter  desus  le  cheval  un  sien  serjant  et  poindre  devant 
li.  Quant  cil  out  esperone  le  cheval,  et  if  cuida  retorner, 
ce  ne  fust  James,  ains  1'emporta  le  cheval  maugre  sien 
en  Tost  des  Sarrazins.  Salahadin  fu  mult  honteus  de  ce. 
II  fist  un  autre  cheval  appareillier." — "  Saladin  inquired 
of  his  men  the  cause  of  their  flight ;  they  replied  that 
the  king  of  England  had  arrived  at  Joppa,  taken  and 
slain  many  of  his  people,  and  rescued  the  fortress.  Sala- 
din asked  them  where  he  was,  and  they  replied — '  My 
lord,  you  see  him  there  upon  the  hillock  with  his  men.' 
'  How !'  cried  Saladin,  '  the  king  on  foot  among  his 
soldiers  ?  That  ought  not  to  be."  Whereupon  Saladin 
sent  him  a  horse,  and  charged  the  messenger  to  tell  him 
that  such  a  personage  as  he  should  not  remain  on  foot 
among  his  soldiers,  and  in  such  jeopardy.  The  mes- 
senger fulfilled  his  lord's  command,  went  to  the  king 
and  presented  him  with  a  horse  on  the  part  of  Saladin. 
The  king  thanked  him  for  the  courtesy,  but  desired  one 
of  his  men-at-arms  to  mount  and  pass  on  before  him. 
The  rider  did  so ;  but  when  he  spurred  the  horse  and 
attempted  to  turn  back,  he  could  not,  but  in  spite  of 
his  exertions  the  horse  carried  him  into  the  camp  of 
the  Saracens.  Saladin  was  much  annoyed  at  this,  and 
ordered  another  horse  to  be  sent."  The  author  of  the 
romance  of  Richard  Ceeur-de-Lion  has  fallen  in  with 
this  anecdote,  and  with  inimitable  absurdity  has  converted 
it  into  a  necromantic  legend.  He  makes  Saladin  by  aid 
of  a  magician  summon  up  two  fiends  in  the  likeness  of 
a  mare  and  her  colt.  The  mother  is  reserved  for 
the  sultan,  but  the  colt  is  presented  to  Richard,  who 


3G2  NOTES. 

it  was  thought  would  ride  the  infernal  charger  in 
the  field.  Now  be  it  known,  that  the  colt  had  re- 
ceived instructions  to  kneel  down  and  suckle  its  dam, 
so  that  the  king  would  in  a  manner  be  placed  in 
the  sultan's  power,  and  either  slain  or  taken  pri- 
soner before  he  could  disentangle  himself  from  this 
awkward  position.  But  the  heavenly  powers  keep 
watch  over  Richard,  and.  the  night  before  the  battle  an 
angel  appears,  who  reveals  the  treachery  of  the  sultan, 
and  suggests  the  means  for  defeating  it.  Richard  stops 
the  ears  of  the  fiend-horse  with  wax,  so  that  he  cannot 
hear  the  neighing  of  the  dam,  and  having  fixed  across 
his  saddle-boft-  a  tremendous  beam  of  wood,  forty  feet 
long,  rides  straightway  into  the  middle  of  the  combat, 
where  he  unhorses  Saladin,  and  bears  down  with  the 
beam  twenty  of  the  infidels  on  each  side  of  his  saddle. 
If  the  reader  should  feel  any  curiosity  to  peruse  more 
of  this  extraordinary  romance,  he  is  referred  to  the 
Specimens  by  Mr.  Ellis,  wherein  an  excellent  abridge- 
ment of  the  whole  is  given. 


NOTE  E.     Page  276. 

The  passion  of  Richard  for  minstrels  and  minstrelsy 
is  well  known.  Amongst  the  Troubadours  who  waited 
upon  his  person,  Bertrand  de  Born  and  Blondel  de  Nesle 
were  the  most  conspicuous.  The  name  of  the  latter  will 
always  be  associated  with  the  history  of  his  master's 
imprisonment,  so  universal  is  the  belief  even  to  this  day, 
that  it  was  by  means  of  a  song  chaunted  beneath  the  win- 
dows of  Schloss  Durenstein,  and  answered  by  the  royal 
captive,  that  the  place  of  his  detention  was  discovered. 
I  will  not  venture  to  pronounce  this  story  an  entire 


NOTES.  363 

fabrication,  as  there  is  nothing  improbable  in  the  cir- 
cumstances usually  stated ;  but  as  I  have  been  unable, 
after  the  most  minute  investigation,  to  find  it  corrobo- 
rated by  the  testimony  of  any  veracious  author,  I  have 
not  thought  proper  to  allude  to  it  in  the  text.  Two  of 
the  poems  attributed  to  Richard  have  been  handed  down 
to  our  times,  and  certainly  display  considerable  poetic 
power.  The  most  famous  of  these,  the  "  Sirvente" 
which  he  wrote  in  prison,  has  been  twice  at  least  trans- 
lated into  English ;  but  as  both  versions,  though  other- 
wise elegantly  executed,  appear  to  me  too  free  to  give 
an  adequate  idea  of  the  original,  I  have  attempted 
another,  and  prefix  the  two  first  stanzas  in  their  oldest 
Provencal  dress,  in  order  that  the  reader,  if  curious  in 
such  obsolete  lore,  may  peruse  that  part  of  the  poena  as 
it  probably  came  from  the  pen  of  Cceur-de-  Lion*  : — 


Ja  nul  horn  pres  non  dira  sa  razon 
Adreitamen,  se  come  horn  doulen  non  ; 
Mas  per  conort  pot  el  faire  canson. 
Prou  ha  d'amicz,  ma  paure  son  li  don  ! 
Honta  y  auran  se  por  ma  rehezon 
Souy  fach  dos  hivers  prez. 

n. 

Or  sachan  ben  mos  horns  e  mos  barons 
Angles,  Normans,  Peytavins  e  Gascons, 
Qu'yeu  non  hai  ja  si  paure  compagnon 
Que  per  ave,  lou  laissesse  en  prezon ; 
Faire  reproch,  certas  yeu  voli  non, 
Mas  souy  dos  hivers  prez. 

*  Since  writing  the  above,  my  attention  has  been  drawn  to  an 
admirable  version  contained  in  an  article  in  Blackwood's  Magazine 
for  February,  1836,  entitled  "  A  Chapter  on  the  Troubadours." 
A  more  valuable  or  scholar-like  treatise  on  the  compositions  of  this 
period  has  nowhere  else  appeared. 


Lament  of  Richard  during  his  Imprisonment. 


If  one  in  prison  may  not  tell  his  wrong 
Without  derision  or  the  chance  of  blame, 

For  his  own  comfort  let  him  speak  in  song. 

Friends  have  I  store,  and  yet  they  leave  me  long! 
If  ransom  comes  not,  let  them  look  for  shame.  — 
Two  years  —  and  still  not  free  ! 

n. 

For  well  they  know,  my  harons  and  my  men, 
Of  England,  Normandy,  Poitou,  Guienne, 

That  not  the  poorest  should  in  chains  be  set 
If  all  my  wealth  could  buy  him  back  again. 

I  will  not  call  them  false  or  treacherous  —  yet 
Two  years  —  and  still  not  free  ! 


The  captive  hath  nor  friends  nor  kindred  left, 
For  gold  is  dearer  than  the  dearest  tie. 

Alas  !  I  feel  myself  of  all  bereft ; 

And  if  within  this  cell  I  chance  to  die. 
Shame  be  to  them  who  let  their  monarch  lie 
So  long,  nor  set  him  free. 

IV. 

'Tis  little  wonder  if  I  grieve  and  pine, 

When  he,  my  lord,  invades  these  lands  of  mine; 

But  if  he  thought  upon  the  sacrament 
We  took  together  at  the  sacred  shrine, 

I  would  not  be  this  day  in  prison  pent, 
But  ranging  wide  and  free. 


O  ye  of  Anjou  and  of  stout  Touraine  ! 

Brave  bachelors  and  knights  of  warlike  deed, 
Did  you  but  know  the  place  where  I  remain, 

Would  ye  not  aid  your  sovereign  in  his  need  ? 
Would  ye  not  rescue  him  ? — Alas,  in  vain  ! — 
Ye  cannot  set  me  free  ! 


365 


And  you,  companions  whom  I  loved  so  wel! 

Of  Pensavin  and  Chail,  O  speak  for  me  ! 
And  let  your  songs  thus  much  of  Richard  tell, 
That,  though  a  prisoner  in  a  foreign  cell ; 

False  was  he  never  yet,  and  shall  not  be, 
Whether  in  chains  or  free. 


NOTE  F.     Page  311. 

Letter  from  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain,  exculpating 
Richard  from  all  share  in  the  assassination  of  Conrad, 
Marquis  of  Montserrat  and  Tyre. 

"  Vetus  de  Monte,  principibus  et  omni  populo  Chris- 
tianse  religionis,  Salutem.  Quoniam  audivimus  illustri 
Anglorum  regi  Ricardo  necem  Marchionis  de  Monte 
Ferrate  a  pluribus  imputari,  tanquam  ejus  machina- 
tione  ob  quandam  inter  eos  exortam  simultatem  inter- 
fectus  sit,  cum  uterque  esset  in  Orientis  partibus  consti- 
tutus:  nostrae  honestatis  interest  ad  purgandam  ejusdem 
Regis  famam  falsi  criminis  suspicione  denigratam,  hujus 
rei  veritatem,  quae  hactenus  penes  nos  latuit,  declarare. 
Nolumus  alicujus  innocentiam  nostri  operis  occasione 
laborare,  cum  nulli  immerito  et  insonti  mali  quippiam 
irrogemus,  eos  vero  qui  in  nos  deliquerint,  Deo  auctore, 
non  patimur  diu  de  illatis  simplicitati  nostrse  injuriis 
gratulari.  Significamus  igitur  universitati  vestrae,  ipsum 
testantes,  per  quern  salvari  speramus,  quod  nulla  memo- 
rati  Regis  machinatione  Marchio  ille  interfectus  sit : 
qui  profecto,  pro  eo,  quod  in  nos  deliquerat,  et  admo- 
nitus  emendare  neglexerat,  nostra  voluntate  et  jussione 
per  satellites  nostros  juste  interiit.  Consuetudinis 
quippe  nostrae  est  eos,  qui  nobis  vel  amicis  nostris  in 
aliquo  injuriosi  extiterint,  prinio  ut  nobis  satisfaciunt 


3(56  NOTES. 

commonere ;  quod  si  contempserint  per  ministros  nos- 
tros,  qui  tanta  nobis  devotioiie  obtemperant,  ut  se  a  Deo 
gloriose  remunerandos  esse  non  dubitent,  si  mandatum 
nostrum  exsequendo  occumbant,  sevevitatem  ultionis  ex- 
petere.  Audiviraus  etiam  de  praenominato  Rege  vul- 
gatura,  quod  DOS  tanquam  minus  integros  et  constantes 
induxerit,  ut  de  nostris  aliquos  Regi  Francorum  insidia- 
turos  emitteremus.  Quod  procul  dubio  falsum  et  vanis- 
simae  suspicionis  commentum  est ;  cum  ncc  ipse,  Deo 
teste,  tale  aliquid  circa  nos  attentaverit,  nee  nos  homini 
immerito  malum  moliri  respectu  honestatis  nostrae  sine- 
remus.  Bene  Valete." 


THE    END. 


LONDON  : 
BRADBURY  AND  EVANS,  PRINTERS,  WHITEFRIARS. 


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